


Catch Up With The Sunrise

by Jonas (saudadeflight)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Angst, Brothers, Court Case, Crime, Depression, Gay, Kidnapping, LGBT, Lots of it, M/M, Mystery, Non-binary character, Other, Slow Burn, Suicide mention, Swearing, Turmoil, a sweet baby boy, because it's not, creepy bastard whom i would love to punt into the sun, friendship lmao, i cant believe i just put slow burn as a tag, i have sunk so low, i'm trying not to make gay the main part of the story, lots of gay, mostly angst, my man says some bad shit, there are like no female characters and its not my fault, uhhh what are other tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 99,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saudadeflight/pseuds/Jonas
Summary: While a young man put up for sale suffers from abuse and emotional manipulation, his friends and family try to cope with his disappearance and race against the clock to find him as they deal with their own issues.
Comments: 36
Kudos: 6





	1. electrify my heart

**Author's Note:**

> technically i guess this is a fanfiction, but the characters are changed beyond recognition (tysm to my friends, but they'll kill me if they see this, so sh) so i decided not to tag the fandoms as it might be misleading. a hint is that their names all start with the same letter as the original characters. if you guess the two, you're god
> 
> a warning for some violence, kidnapping, drugs, alcohol, and lots of profanity. more warnings will be provided in the future if necessary

People make mistakes, but very few people are stupid enough to singlehandedly make mistakes that end their lives. Maybe not in the literal sense; but the end of _a_ life. The termination of one normality and the beginning of a new reality. 

Sometimes, your gut instincts are right. When things feel off and there's a silent scream building in your throat, listen to it. Don't make his mistake, don't convince yourself that you must simply be paranoid. 

The sky was blanketed with gray clouds. It was the type of weather that makes you feel floaty and unreal, makes time stop. It was the calm before the storm, where the air felt still and silent and the sky was dark but everything was illuminated perfectly. You could see everything but you never had to squint against the light. The temperature was warm, maybe slightly humid. Rain was to come soon, but all you'd be able to feel before it was the peace.

Abel Donnelly parallel parked in front of his brother's favorite club. He stepped out of the little gray Sedan, tilting his head up to observe the clouds. A sense of uneasiness crawled across his skin, or maybe it was the cold. 

Pushing the door open, he peered into the crowded pit of drunkards and strippers. He kept his lip firmly between his teeth. It was a nervous habit. He almost wanted to call out, but there was no way he'd be heard over the room's noise.

So he took a hesitant step inside, avoiding eye contact. A timid man, Abel had never been a frequent at places like this. While both brothers had a drinking problem, they preferred very different scenes.

He squeezed through people to get to the restrooms. The music was pounding through his entire body, making his chest hurt. It was like he could barely stay on his feet, and he was sober. One of the very few sober people in the club.

It was eerily dark in each and every corner. People slid along by the walls, unnoticed, like snakes. But in certain spots, there were blinding lights, changing colors and cycling through every neon. It was painful on the eyes. 

One of the snakes caught his eye and smiled. Abel swore he recognized the man, but said man was gone before he could get a full profile. He should have known some of his old group would still hang around places like this. Druggies, alcoholics, generally awful people. Abel had been clean of weed for a year already. He didn't belong in that crowd, not anymore.

The restrooms were filthy. Someone was retching. The smell of smoke was clear in the air, but Abel didn't even flinch. As sad as it was to say, he was used to it. Besides, his attention was caught by a figure- his brother. He was wearing a baseball cap and leaned against the wall, his face shadowed and bottle of tequila in his hand. 

Abel touched his shoulder, and slowly the man looked at him. Oh. Yikes. Not his brother. Oh no. Oh boy! "O-Oh, sorry, I thought-" he stammered, but the man just shrugged. He had a little smile, but it was a sad one.

"Lookin' for somebody?"

Stumbling through his words, Abel managed to reply, "Yeah, uh, I'll... get going. Sorry to bother you." He giggled nervously, and the man shrugged again. He gestured with his free hand at the stalls, as if saying 'check them out.' So Abel did, nodding once and doing a quick sweep past them. None of them looked like his brother.

Worry built in his chest, knotting his stomach and closing his throat. It didn't help that he was a naturally anxious person. Arius had texted him half an hour ago, where was he? Maybe Abel had taken too long, and he'd gotten a cab. Or maybe he'd gotten dragged into an alley and beaten up, something like that. What if he'd been hurt?

Somebody tapped his shoulder, and he jumped. When he turned he breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey Ari," he said, that relief evident in his voice. His brother smirked, but his eyes were glazed by the alcohol. He was drunk. No surprise there, and he'd been smart to text Abel rather than walk home. At least he had one braincell left.

"Le's get outta 'ere," Arius mumbled, slinging his arm over Abel's shoulders. The younger nodded in agreement and they threaded carefully around the others to leave the restroom. "Wait-" Arius stopped abruptly and pulled himself away from Abel. He barely made it to the toilet in time, vomiting into it with a sputter.

He groaned, cursing a few times before gagging again. Nothing else came up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned around with a shaky sigh. "You ever jus' hate yourself?" 

Grimacing as Arius stabilized himself on Abel's shoulders again, Abel muttered, "All the time." He didn't get an answer, so they proceeded out into the club. Arius gave a few waves to people that must be familiar; definitely frequent party-goers.

He seemed comfortable in the place, whereas Abel certainly wasn't. So he hurried them out of the crowd, out of the music and the smell of drugs, away from sultry looks and voices and frat boys. 

The sky had become darker. Distant thunder gave its low rumbles of warning, which was somehow comforting. "C'mon," Abel ushered his brother toward the car as he pulled out his keys to unlock it. It clicked and the lights flashed, so he tugged on the handle and opened the passenger door to allow him inside.

When Arius had staggered into the car, Abel leaned forward as if to help him with the seatbelt but he was swatted away. "You're no'h my mom, dumbass," Arius grumbled, and the tips of Abel's ears turned red as he nodded quickly and closed the door. He circled to his side of the car and slid into the driver's seat, putting the key in the ignition and giving it a hard turn with a bit of difficulty. He quickly realized why.

His palms were sweaty, he noticed, and cast another glance past Arius at the club. Something was wrong and he couldn't figure out what. It was probably the anxiety. He'd always been the shyer one of the two, after all.

He didn't bring it up to Arius, because he'd get nothing out of that other than a laugh and an insult. So he pulled out into the street and began the drive home in relative silence. 

"Abel," Arius muttered after about five minutes. 

"Yeah?" Abel didn't even look at him, focused on the road and on the sky. 

"Something's wrong." 

_Arius felt it too._ That sent a shiver crawling up Abel's spine, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He didn't know how to answer. He dared to glance toward his brother, frowning, and found that Arius wasn't looking at him. Rather, he was leaning against the window and staring blankly ahead. 

They turned a corner. Abel's throat felt like sandpaper. All he could reply with was a weak, "I know."

Clove Avenue was a narrow road covered with an umbrella of outstretched branches. Some of them had lost their leaves, allowing light to stream down onto the street. And some hadn't, painting the car with shadows as it passed beneath. Abel pulled into the small parking lot beside a stout brick building, casting a glance at the dumpster bin and reminding himself that he needed to take out the trash. 

They silently left the car, Abel being sure to lock it tight. It wasn't exactly the safest part of town. They trotted inside, Arius of course barely even upright. Seeing as that was the case, Abel guided him toward the elevator and once inside hit the button for the second floor. The elevator hardly worked, creaking unreliably, but there was no way the drunk asshole was going to make it up the stairs.

He had trouble putting the key into the lock. He was shaking. Some primal instinct was _insisting_ that something was off, that something was about to happen, but all it did was make him feel helpless and confused.

Their apartment was a disaster. Jackets, plates, and silverware were strewn about the place, along with cigarettes, sticky notes, bottles, and crumbs. Their roommate and Abel's best friend, Yasuko, was the only one who bothered to try to keep the place somewhat tidy, but they were usually working late shifts to pay rent. 

Arius collapsed onto the couch. "Thanks, bell."

"Yeah." Abel walked into the bathroom and opened the cupboard, looking for something that would help Arius's inevitable hangover in the morning. None. The last bottle was in the trash beneath the sink. 

He sighed, taking out his phone and leaning on the doorframe while he texted their roommate.

> **Abel:**  
>  were out of aspirin can you pick some up on your way home
> 
> **Yasuko:**  
>  im making money bro
> 
> **Abel:**  
>  suko blease i literally just got home
> 
> **Yasuko:**  
>  srry i have late shift 
> 
> **Abel:**  
>  store closes at 9??
> 
> **Yasuko:**  
>  yea i only get to leave at 10
> 
> **Abel:**  
>  fine ill get them myself >:/
> 
> **Yasuko:**  
>  lol loser
> 
> **Abel:**  
>  dickhead
> 
> **Yasuko:**  
>  ily too uwu <333

He huffed, tucking his phone into his pocket and turning around, turning off the bathroom light as he left. "I have to go to the store, we're out of aspirin," he informed Arius, digging around in their money jar for a few dollars. "Suko only gets back around ten fifteen." 

Arius groaned, putting a hand to his forehead dramatically. "How lame, actually workin' t' get money," he jested, and Abel smirked. He found the money he was looking for and buried it deep into the pocket of his ripped jeans. 

"They'll have their restaurant open before you know it, Ari," he commented, smiling. "And we're going to work there. No complaints." Arius grumbled, but Abel could tell that he was looking forward to doing something with his life. Sitting around, drinking, and working at the gas station on the weekends wasn't the ideal lifestyle. 

"I'd prob'ly set t'e kitchen on fire trying t' microwave a fish."

"Wh- okay, no, that's why you're gonna be the janitor," Abel snickered. "Besides, you don't microwave fish." 

"Whaaatever."

Abel opened the door, making sure he had his keys. "I'll be right back, yeah?" he reassured Arius, who hummed and reached for the remote. Then he paused. Their eyes met, green on green. Abel's smile fell.

Both of them hesitated. Arius took the remote into his hand but didn't look away, the corners of his mouth turned down. Again Abel got the feeling that something was wrong. "Uh... please be careful, Abel," Arius mumbled.

"I'll be okay."

"Yeah. I know."

"I'll be right back."

"Okay."

After another pause, Arius looked away and turned on the TV. Abel left, shutting the door softly behind him. It was just a trip to the store for pills, nothing more, and he didn't have to stress about it... but he was. A lot. 

He took the stairs down, got back to his car, and pulled out of the parking lot. 

He drove for about ten minutes, in silence, without the radio playing.

He parked carefully at the store.

He went into the store and purchased the pills. The cashier was Suko's boyfriend. Abel had completely forgotten that he worked at said store. But that didn't seem to matter, because something was wrong. Abel felt distant, disembodied, and everything felt muffled. His instincts were telling him to run.

He ran.

He didn't get far.


	2. it's negative attention at best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we jump into the future for a court case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched a mock court case or two but it's not accurate

"The court is in session." 

Deadly silence filled the room like a toxic gas. In a courtroom you can hear _everything,_ but here there wasn't even a hint of the anxious shuffling that had seemed so familiar before the gavel hit the sound block. 

It was an odd, unnerving calm. As if both sides were still numb with shock and couldn't believe they were here- for very different reasons. A couple of glances were exchanged, and then all eyes went to the judge.

"Are both sides prepared?"

_No._

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Yes, Your Honor."

The judge nodded gravely, and peered over the thinly framed glasses that were perched upon his crooked nose. His gaze was settled on the clerk. "Will the clerk swear in the jury?" he asked calmly. Upon the clerk's command, they stood with a sudden noise, some clattering and shuffling. 

"Members of the jury, please raise your right hand," called the court clerk, no tone in his voice. "Do each of you solemnly, sincerely and truly affirm that you will try the case before you to the best of your abilities, without any knowledge of the case beforehand, given only the evidence and instructions of the court, so help you God?" 

There was a series of 'I do's that rippled through the twelve of them. They then sat with another flurry of sound. When they were settled, quiet pervaded the courtroom again. 

Papers were shuffled. 

"We are gathered here today for the trial presented against..." 

...

"The defendant has been charged with the kidnapping and assault of Abel Donnelly..."

The attorneys were introduced by the judge. The defendant's attorney looked far more professional, clearly the byproduct of as much money the defendant could throw at him. The plaintiff's side gave off a collective vibe of sudden uncertainty, but they made no noise expressing their dissatisfaction.

"There are six witnesses who have chosen to come forward. We will hear their testimonies throughout the course of this trial. Their names are Arius Donnelly, Glenn Oglive, Yasuko Deshimaru, Chase Brady, Marissa Magifica, and William Barns," explained the judge, nodding to the witnesses respectively. Each of them, in turn, nodded back. "Will the witnesses please leave the courtroom until further notified?" 

In silence, the six of them shuffled out, the door closing heavily behind them. The victim was left alone in terror.

"Will the prosecution please give their opening statement?"

The prosecutor's attorney stood, head held high. "Certainly, Your Honor. The facts we have gathered against the defendant are nothing but the truth, and will be presented in an orderly manner with solid evidence. As told by the victim's brother, Mr. Donnelly disappeared on the second of February after giving his brother a ride home to their apartment on Clove Avenue. He was reported missing after a little over twenty-four hours after his initial disappearance. They heard nothing from him for two weeks, despite ongoing investigations."

"Very well. The defense?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a bunch of chapters already done but after that updates will be sparse
> 
> also the court chapters are shorter than the other ones fyi


	3. turn off your porcelain face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they discover that abel's gone and the brothers' roommate isn't happy about it

Anxiety was the most present emotion at the moment. A tingling, quiet fear that made Arius's ears ring and made him jump at any noise. You know the feeling, don't you? When you're like a bird, your gaze and your head darting every which direction all the time (especially behind you), looking at everything but seeing nothing. 

Unconsciously he was tapping, a quick successive drumming of three fingers that he couldn't seem to stop. He couldn't pay attention to whatever was on TV. He kept checking his phone, looking at the time, blinking blearily at it. His head was spinning and he had trouble summoning a consistent train of thought. Still, he could recognize that something was wrong, and he regretted ever letting his little brother walk out that door.

The thing was, he didn't _know_ what was wrong. There wasn't an evident problem he could fix, nor any logical reasoning behind this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. It made him want to throw up. Or maybe that was just the vodka.

And in the car, Abel had told him, _I know._ He must feel it too, so maybe Arius wasn't going crazy, or maybe they were both going crazy. He refused to accept that something was actually wrong, because... 

He didn't want to think about it. It had been how long since Abel had left? Too long. An hour, or something like that.

Arius drew his eyebrows together with worry and frustration. He'd never been a touchy type, never shown much affection except when he was high or super out of it. But he couldn't deny the protectiveness he had over Abel. The kid had been through a lot and needed somebody to look out for him.

To be honest, Arius hated the responsibility he put on his own shoulders. He hated being attached to anything, hated commitment and hated being tied down. He especially hated how worked up he was getting over this.

Probably the alcohol.

Regardless, he stumbled to his feet and toward the kitchenette. He almost fell, his legs unsteady- why was the room tilting like that? It made him feel seasick. The floor wasn't even, and his body was insisting on leaning to the right. Slow steps. Careful steps.

Upon reaching the fridge, he took a can of beer from its case. He cracked it open with slightly shaking hands and tipped it toward his mouth. Maybe it'd soothe his nerves.

Spoiler: it didn't. Ten minutes and an empty aluminum can later, he didn't feel any better. So in his drunken desperation, he lit a cigarette.

Things got a little foggy, and time seemed weird. But at some point the door swung open, and the cigarette was torn from his fingers, and he was slapped across the face with the full force of someone's palm.

His head snapped to the side. His first instinct was to punch the person back, and he did try, but he had zero coordination and totally missed. He was thrown off balance, but somebody grabbed his elbows and spun him to face them. He grasped their elbows to steady himself and looked into their almond shaped eyes. 

"Oh fuck."

"ARIUS!" Yasuko practically shouted into his face. "Where the fuck is he? Where the fuck is Abel?" Their words jarred him. He was at a loss, unable to speak. His unfocused eyes struggled to focus on their face, his legs threatening to give out from beneath him.

"You're telling me he's been buying pills for three hours, huh?" they snapped, shaking him. "And you're sitting on your ass drinking and getting high? Are you kidding me?" 

He realized that Suko was... scared.

"That's exac'ly why I was drinking," he mumbled, but it didn't help his case. Suko pushed him away and tore their fingers through the messy mop of hair on their head, pacing quickly; to the couch and back, twice. "Mayybe you're overprotective..." Arius added, saying the first dumb thing that came to his mind.

They almost screamed with frustration, "You're so fucking stupid, Arius! Sometimes I wonder if you even care, you know?!" That was enough to make him snap his mouth shut. He watched Suko take out their phone and dial Abel's number. They had him on speed dial, and vise versa.

Nothing. It went to voicemail.

This occurred for the next ten minutes, repeated calls and messages left and texts from the both of them. None of which were read or replied to. 

"Yasu- Suko," Arius tried to say calmly, speaking deliberately to keep the slur out of his words. They whirled to him, their face full of desperation and anger. "I think we should sleep. He'll be back in the morning."

They looked right about ready to roundhouse kick him into next week. But they deflated instead, falling back onto the couch. They turned off the TV, which had been running quietly in the background. "I don't know." The tone they used was so defeated and tired that it almost hurt Arius to hear.

But he'd never been empathetic, nor particularly loving toward his roommate. So he didn't react. He simply turned and headed to his room. He paused in front of the room Abel and Suko shared, the door slightly ajar. He poked his head inside as if his brother would just be there, asleep. 

He wasn't. Arius withdrew and continued to his room, shutting the door behind him and stripping off his shirt before crawling into bed. There he lay on his back, staring numbly up at the ceiling, wondering if something really had happened to Abel. Wondering if, maybe he'd been right, and maybe it was his fault. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh another short one


	4. kick me when i'm on the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel wakes up

Groggily, Abel began to stir. His senses were quickly stimulated; the stinging smell of antiseptic and mint, a cold tightness around his wrists and his ankles, the chill in the air, something warm and soft encapsulating him into a fuzzy cocoon. It was as soothing as it was terrifying, in some odd way. 

For a moment he could imagine that he was at home. Wrapped tightly in his blanket... maybe Glenn had visited to clean their apartment, and Suko was making mint tea, and Arius had left the window open.

He could almost taste the fresh air, could nearly hear Suko yelling at Arius to close the window because it was cold and the landlord hadn't fixed the heater yet. Arius would groan and abandon his coffee to shut the window, his footsteps unsteady on the floorboards of Abel's room because he had a hangover.

He'd probably whack Abel over the head with the comic Abel had fallen asleep reading, saying something about how he needed to get his lazy ass out of bed. Then he'd tramp his way out and Abel would pull the blanket over his head to preserve warmth and fall back asleep until eleven in the morning. 

If only. 

There was no sunlight bleeding through his eyelids, no scent of the outdoors and no sign of his friends. In fact, when he opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. His eyelashes brushed a fabric, irritating them. There was something over his eyes, a blindfold if you will, and the thought instantly made him panic. 

Something stopped him from reaching up to tear it off. He winced as his wrists were jerked back. They... didn't have the reach. The cold around his wrists intensified, and he realized that he was trapped. Restrained. 

He almost screamed right there. It felt like being buried alive, he hated not being able to move, he _hated_ this. But he only snapped his mouth shut with a small whimper, trying to pull his limbs against his body. He couldn't. All four were pulled tightly away from him, making him feel exposed and terrified.

"Arius?" he whispered, his voice cracking. He knew it was hopeless, but like some men cry for their mothers, Abel cried for his brother. It's not as if his mom gave him any love or protection anyway. 

He shifted uncomfortably, blinking to try to keep the tears at bay. "Please help..." he spoke up quietly again, desperate. He couldn't describe the fear coursing through him. His heartbeat was louder than his voice, even, his head pounding in sync with it. His fingers grasped at air, chewed nails digging into his palms.

Silence pervaded the room, some horrible silence that made his skin crawl.

He couldn't take it anymore. 

He screamed.

It wasn't a scream for help, nor was it a scream of pain. There were no words, it was a wail of helplessness, fear, and anger. A cry of a caged animal, screaming not in the hope that someone would hear it, nor in the hope of scaring anyone off. Abel didn't know why he did it, but it felt freeing.

Hurried footsteps interrupted him, and the door opened.

Abel was silenced. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a short one


	5. my mind of stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arius and suko try to deal with abel's disappearance, and someone contacts arius after a long time

To be honest, Arius hadn't been sleeping well since Abel disappeared. Or sleeping at all. All he did was toss and turn and sweat and suffocate himself in his pillow. 

He and Suko preferred to stay in the same room lately, so Arius slept in Abel's bed. They'd formed a wordless truce after Suko's initial fury had subsided. Still, they were angry. They made it very clear that they still partially blamed him for his disappearance. That was fair. Arius blamed himself too.

Both of them had reported the event to the police. There were brightly colored flyers out in the town of Shady Creek now, but it was doing no good. The investigation was going nowhere. He had disappeared without a trace. His car had been completely abandoned, no sign of a struggle. 

This morning he was up early again. A cup of black coffee was clutched in one hand as he sat slumped on the couch. The hotness of the mug was stark in contrast to how cool and clammy his skin felt.

Maybe he was getting sick or something. Maybe it was the hangover. Last night he'd once again blown their money on booze, hoping to forget the shit happening at home. Suko didn't even say anything about it when he stumbled home with a bruise on his cheek. Arius still didn't remember how he got it. 

He was watching some anime Suko had left paused overnight, but he was barely paying attention. There were dark bags under his eyes and a permanent frown staining his face. The quickly flashing lights and colors illuminated his face and reflected in his glassy eyes.

Somehow it made him feel worse, like there was a void in his stomach that only grew the more he sat and did nothing. He felt like he should be doing _something,_ it was awful just to sit with no clue of Abel's location or health, but there really was nothing else he could do. Sure, he could go out into the street and shout all he wanted, in fact, it did sound appealing, but then again he'd be taken as another mad drunkard.

Not too far off though, huh?

The soft trod of socks was heard behind him, but he didn't turn around. He didn't really have the energy to turn around, and besides, he already knew who it was. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Suko dragging their feet on the way to the kitchenette, their eyes glued to the dim blueish screen of their phone.

Arius stared dully at the screen before him, not really registering it. He was so tired but knew that if he slept, he'd just wake up sweating and even more miserable than he had been before.

Had Abel really only been gone for less than a week? It felt like forever.

He never really realized how much Abel meant to him. They'd grown up together in a family where the only people who accepted them were each other, despite their petty fights and brotherly grudges.

Arius could recall a few times when he'd beaten the shit out of someone who hurt Abel... but he could also remember times when he'd scoffed and closed the door in Abel's tear-streaked face. They'd walked out on each other, screamed at each other, hurt each other, and lately, the only time they had positive interactions was when one of them was drunk or high. Hell, Arius didn't even know if he'd ever told Abel that he loved him, at least not when he was sober.

The couch dipped beside him, and he cast a glance at Suko. They didn't even look at him. They had tea now, peach tea by the smell of it, and their eyes were still fixed on the phone. 

He turned his attention to the floor. He was tired. Last night he'd taken pills that would supposedly help him sleep, but he apparently didn't take enough and woke up far too early. Everything was going to shit, without a doubt. 

_Bzz bzz._

It took him a moment to realize what that noise was. It was his phone on the couch beside him, vibrating. He snatched it up quickly, adrenaline making his heart pound.

He turned the phone over and the air in his lungs left him in a sigh.

Unknown number. He answered it anyway, not saying anything and waiting for the other person to speak first. Suko looked up at him and their eyes met. 

_"Yo. Is this still your number?"_

The voice was somewhat familiar. "Who's asking?" Arius said bitterly, having got his hopes up for nothing. It wasn't Abel, that wasn't his voice.

_"Chase."_

He paused. Chase, as in... "Brady?"

_"Yeah. Arius, right?"_

More slowly now, Arius answered, "Yeah." Chase hadn't called him in years. They'd seen each other in passing, but hardly exchanged words. Especially since Arius had blocked Chase's old number so long ago.

From the other end, Chase took a deep breath and sighed. There was a moment of silence that hung between them awkwardly. If it weren't for that tiny flame of hope, Arius would have hung up. After a bit Chase piped up, _"I saw the posters. I'm really sorry."_

Anger boiled up inside of Arius quite suddenly. "If you're here to give me a pity party, fuck off," he snapped.

 _"No, no, sorry- I didn't- shit. Okay, look. I wanna help,"_ Chase insisted, speaking quickly now. _"I was at the club with him, on the second. I think he came to get you. Pretty sure he didn't recognize me."_

Interest piqued. Well played, Chase.

"How would that even help?"

_"It... it doesn't, not really. But the fact is, I'm one of the last people to see him, and that drags me right into this shit. Besides, I really do want to help. He's a good kid. He was like a little brother to me once, you know..."_

"Shut up!" Arius growled, his voice throaty. "Shut the fuck up, Brady, you never cared about either of us! You could have just gone on with your sorry life instead of calling me to tell me your useless bullshit. You didn't even know him."

 _"Ouch._ _"_ Chase sounded genuinely hurt. Arius didn't feel bad in the slightest.

"Don't call me again." 

_"No- Ari wait!"_

He hadn't heard that nickname from those lips in a long time. "What."

 _"I know you hate my guts, okay? I get it. I screwed up and I deserve your hate. But I want to help. So if there's anything I can do, please call me, I promise I'll try. I want him safe just as much as you do, and..."_ Chase hesitated. He was careful with his words this time, as he should be. _"I know Suko's got to be hurting really bad right now. But whatever happened to him, he's got to be alive, and you're gonna find him, yeah?"_

Silence. Suko was looking at Arius with the first sign of interest they'd had in days. He just gave them a look that said something like 'I'll tell you later.' 

"Fine," said Arius quietly. 

_"You'll let me?"_ Chase sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. Don't fuck it up. If you get any leads then call me, text me, whatever. But don't get any fucking ideas about me." 

_"I know, that's- that's not what this is about. Thanks, dude. We'll find him."_

"Maybe."

_"We will."_

Arius hung up. Those two words lingered. _We will._ Maybe Chase was right, and maybe he wasn't. Anyhow, the exchange left Arius exhausted in every form. He slumped, only now noticing that Suko had turned off the TV. It was empty and dark in the apartment now. Gloomier, but at the same time not.

"Was... was that Chase?" Suko asked tentatively. Chase was a touchy subject.

"Yeah." Arius closed his eyes.

"What'd he-"

"He wanted to help," he cut them off.

"Oh."

A pause.

"I'm going back to bed."

"Okay," they replied, doubtful, eyes returning to their phone. They were emailing somebody, but he didn't bother to read it or stop to ask about it. 

Needless to say, Arius didn't get any more sleep. He went to his room, not Abel and Suko's. He closed the door, crawled onto his bed, and let the pillow soak up his silent tears.


	6. time and hearts will wear us thin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he's awake for longer this time
> 
> tw for panic attacks and the creepy bastard

Silence can drive someone mad. Now, unlike Arius, Abel liked the sound of quiet. He kept to himself, preferring only the sounds of soft lofi in the background, the clicks of a controller, pencil scratching against paper. Through the thin walls he'd hear Arius playing death metal or something, so it was never entirely silent, but Abel used to think of himself as a quiet person who enjoyed what little quiet he got. 

Not anymore. He'd been in relative silence for... who knows how long. His captor had made a habit of waking him up every once and a while to murmur "good morning" before feeding him. How many times had he said it? More than four, surely... yes, well, however many days it was, it was too long.

The silence was horrible. If he wasn't focusing on how much he smelled or how dry his throat was or how empty his stomach was, he'd be focusing on the quiet ringing in his ears. He'd strain his senses to grasp _anything,_ any sound, but it seemed that his captor moved completely soundlessly throughout... wherever this was. That, or it was soundproof, but that was an even worse alternative. 

He'd screamed his throat raw. At first his captor had given him a second chance, covering his mouth with one strong hand and running strangely delicate fingers through Abel's hair until Abel quieted. It was a surreal experience, really. Imagine seeing nothing, but somebody's stroking your hair, and that somebody could probably kill you within seconds. Imagine how eerie it would be, because no matter how loud you scream, your captor is calm and silent.

The second time, the mysterious captor wasn't so forgiving. Maybe he entered silently, or maybe Abel couldn't hear anything over his own desperate (and admittedly hoarse) shouts, but one moment there was nothing and the next there was a hand around his throat and breath right beside his ear. This, of course, did nothing to ease him, and he thrashed with another screech. The warm breath hit his ear and there was only a quiet sound from his captor's lips.

"Shh."

The third time, all attempt at cooperation was abandoned. The door had slammed open, and the suddenness of it made Abel jump, his scream suddenly stuck in his throat. He remembered how hard his heart was pounding for those five seconds of silence, and remembered screaming again when that hand grasped his jaw and held him still while something was shoved between his teeth. He was pushed onto his side and it was tied behind his head. He'd been efficiently gagged, reducing his cries to pleads and ragged breathing.

That was his first panic attack in years. It was even worse than he remembered. He was left alone as he suffered through it for twenty minutes or so. Since then, he'd been quiet. 

Sometimes he wanted to scream or talk just to shatter the silence, but couldn't. Even the thought of screaming made him go rigid with fear, and besides, nothing coherent could get past the gag. His throat was sore and dry, making it impossible even if he wanted to. 

Now he lay there, on that bed, under the blankets he'd been tucked into. That was what he'd felt when he first woke up, that tight warmth, and now he was pretty sure that it was a blanket. Every time the kidnapper visited, the blankets would be adjusted, smoothed, or changed. Often he was grateful for it because the temperature was turned awfully low and the blankets provided the warmth he required. Other times he'd wake up in a cold sweat and just want _out,_ just want to feel the cool air hit his skin.

His eyes were closed, though that didn't make a difference. He was trying to sleep because time passed faster when he was asleep and he wouldn't have as much time to think about... everything. He wanted to sleep forever and only wake up when he was safe. Anything to escape this suffocating room. 

The door clicking open jolted him wide awake, his chains rattling (yeah, chains- how medieval) as he drew his limbs as close as he could to himself. He wanted security. 

Soft footsteps tread carefully toward him, and something was set on a surface. It sounded like a bowl- food? God, he was starving. He'd kill for a pizza. Damn.

"Good evening."

That voice. He didn't know why he hated it so much, but it made him shudder every time. It was eerily calm, controlled, and slow. It was a deep voice, kind of brassy, but it also carried its own kind of tune. When he heard it he thought of honey and silk and... danger. Sure, it was... it was a beautiful voice, yes, but... the tone made everything feel like a threat. As if, with each word, his captor was challenging him, _daring_ him to retort.

"Foremost, I apologize for such a slim diet. You were too sick and distressed to eat."

He said it so casually, like it was no big deal to kidnap someone and feed them one meal a day for... five days? Had it really been five days? Something like that. Abel couldn't decide if it felt like he'd been here for more or less than five days. 

_You don't have the right to apologize to me._

"Once you realize that you are safe here, it will become easier, yes?"

Abel didn't even move. Anger boiled in his veins, but truth be told, he was far too tired to take action. Maybe that was part of his captor's demented plan. Maybe Abel was being drugged. Who the fuck knew? Everything had taken a steep decline downhill and at this point he'd believe anything- except that he was safe. Because he wasn't. 

Nimble fingers undid the knot that had been secured tightly around the back of Abel's head. The cloth was pulled out of his mouth and he gasped in air, finally some fresh air that wasn't filtered through his saliva. His jaw was sore as hell, but he just grit his teeth and dealt with it. He didn't give his captor any satisfaction. 

Something clattered, not quite the metal of silverware though. Abel flinched. Well, there goes the whole thing about not giving the guy the satisfaction of Abel's fear. A hand ran through his hair and trailed down his jawline soothingly, making him shift away with discomfort. There was a soft chuckle, that awfully wicked velvety laugh that made Abel want to curl up and wither away. 

His head was lifted and an extra pillow slid beneath him, propping him up. Right... food. He could kind of smell it now, but the scent of his own filth was stronger. Christ almighty, he hadn't even been allowed to use the bathroom. To be fair, the guy did have some small mercy; sometimes Abel woke up and things were clean, the sheets were cool and fresh, his clothes changed. While that was nice and all, it made him super uncomfortable to think about.

Something poked at his lips, and he tentatively opened his mouth. He could recognize the taste almost instantly, and it was such a relief to him that at first he didn't realize how unsettling the food was. It was ramen, the same that Suko made. They served the _best_ homemade ramen, there was nothing else like it. 

So then the fear set in. Where had his captor gotten it? It's not like Suko had a recipe that someone could copy. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It tasted exactly like-

"Your friend and I are acquainted," the deep voice cut through his thoughts like he'd been reading Abel's mind. "I was able to order some of his ramen to go during his late shift tonight." 

Before Abel could stop himself, he gritted out, " _Their._ It's they."

Silence. Abel shut his mouth tightly, fearing he'd fucked up. The quiet gave him a second to process what the man had said, that he and Suko... knew each other. Did that mean Suko was in on this or something? Abel wouldn't believe that for a second, but it was still scary. That meant, by some extension, Abel should know this guy. Possibly. And that also meant Suko had seen him today, maybe didn't even think anything of it...

Out of nowhere his captor finally hissed, "Do not correct me, Abel." His tone was so demanding and harsh that Abel winced as if he'd been hit. And that was just the _tone,_ while the use of his name made him go a pale white. His stomach turned unpleasantly. Maybe he should have expected the man to know his name, but it was horrifyingly shocking to hear anyway. He wanted to squirm, but he resisted the urge, just clenching his fists and remaining silent.

After another pause, the man once again offered some of the ramen between the chopsticks. Abel obliged, albeit bitterly. The both of them were silent for the next five minutes as Abel ate.

It was rather humiliating to be fed like a baby, but he dared not complain. Instead he tried to look for the silver lining; he was getting food in his stomach, and it was Suko's ramen. Meaning, godlike quality of noodles.

It wasn't a large serving, but it was enough. When the bowl was supposedly empty, the bastard (Abel was running out of things to call him) set it down gently somewhere. A chair scraped against the floor, making Abel's skin crawl. He hated not being able to see anything. He hated not knowing where his captor was or what he was doing, only getting a hint when he was touched out of nowhere. 

There was some shuffling noise and a sudden thought popped into Abel's head. "Please don't put the gag back..." he said abruptly. The other hummed. 

"I will not. It is filthy. Prove to me that I can trust you." Abel let out a breath of relief. Footsteps receded away from him after the bowl was presumably picked up. " _Fheiceann tú amárach_ ," the captor said in an almost sing-song tone, his voice laced with amusement. 

Abel tensed again, unease washing through him. " _Labhraíonn tú Gaeilge?_ "

The man chuckled. "No, I do not. Only the very basics, _mo grá_."

The door shut, and into the now empty room Abel whispered, "I'll tear your dick off if you call me that again."

He didn't sleep well that night. He never did. He'd drift in and out of consciousness, barely dreaming. When he did dream, it was about Suko or Arius or even Glenn, and he'd wake up sweating with watery eyes because it was just a dream. They weren't actually there to save him, nobody was.

He had to get out of here, but there was no way. Not when he didn't even know what the room looked like, not when his hands and ankles were chained to somewhere on the bed, or the wall, or whatever. Not when he was dehydrated and starved. As much as he wanted to bust right out of there, he couldn't. Not yet.

Or, maybe he could. 


	7. dead girl in the pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the court continues and abel can't handle it

"Very well. The defense?"

The accused's attorney tilted his chin up higher and began to speak.

"My client has no recollection of anything described here. He had past relations with Donnelly's family and friends that would indicate a negative bias against him and perhaps a motive to frame him. During the time the prosecutor claims he was kidnapped, my client has legal evidence that he was in Europe for business. Therefore there is no way the defendant could have interacted with Donnelly physically at all, and there are no records of other communication sources. All of Donnelly's scars could easily have been self-inflicted, as he has a record of mental health and instability."

The plaintiff's side gave off a disgruntled atmosphere. They shifted, uneasy, because contrary to their former beliefs, the defendant had given a very solid argument. The plaintiff himself, the prosecutor, tightened his jaw and looked down at his hands with anger and despair in his eyes.

"What evidence does the prosecution have against the defense?"

The prosecutor's attorney folded his hands in front of him politely. Some distance behind him, the victim wore a frown as if saying 'do we really need to prove this?' His eyes were now drilling holes into the back of the defendant's head, but the defendant didn't look back. He remained poised.

"Donnelly himself is rather good evidence, Your Honor. We have photos of many bruises, marks, and scars spread across his body. He can recount how each of them happened in detail," said the attorney, stepping forward to present a couple of photos encased in plastic. The victim looked away.

"Excuse me-" cut in the captor's speaker. 

"Silence," said the judge. The man fell silent. "Anything else?"

"Yes, Your Honor. We have photographic evidence of the estate and glimpses of the defendant in those pictures. They were taken by Donnelly during his time in captivity." Once again, he presented photos in plastic sheets. The defendant eyed them with acute interest.

Deciding that was good enough of an introduction to his point, the attorney gave a nod to the opposing side and retreated a few steps.

The opposition continued confidently, "In none of those photographs is my client's face captured. The furniture is different, and if the prosecutor _was_ kidnapped, it would be an unlikely circumstance that he would be able to take those photos. We have found numerous loopholes in Donnelly's recounting of events, suggesting a poorly fabricated story." 

Maybe if you were close enough, you'd see the tears forming in Abel Donnelly's eyes. 

The attorney bowed his head to indicate that he was done, and the judge turned back to the prosecution. "Very well. Is Mr. Donnelly able to recount the events in the witness stand?"

"Yes, Your Honor." The sudden strength in Abel's voice shocked even himself. His veins were boiling, his heart pounding for justice. He stood and the bailiff escorted him to the stand.

"Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

He remained standing, staring at the microphone in front of him. His eyes flicked toward the defendant, who met his gaze. Abel looked away immediately. His bravery crumbled in an instant, like a tower of children's blocks.

"Please state your first and last name."

"Abel... Abel Donnelly."

"Spell your last name for the record." He did so, slowly, trying hard not to stutter. "You may be seated."

They seemed to be waiting for him to begin before launching the questions at him. 

He cleared his throat. "Uh, well... on February second I picked my brother up... from... from the club, and brought him home, and left again to get pain medication for his hangover in the morning but... I never got back. I bought the bottle... I don't know why, but I started running when I left the store, and... I don't know, things were fuzzy. I don't remember what happened after that, I just... woke up somewhere else..."

He trailed off uneasily, bouncing his leg anxiously. Again he looked at the defendant and immediately stopped all movement, paling. He tore his eyes away and looked back toward his friends. 

"I think I was blindfolded and restrained for about a week, but I can't be sure... he'd come in just to feed me and clean, he didn't talk much. He gave me Yasuko's ramen once. I-I just..." he stammered, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "I remember that the room always smelled minty and clean. He always smelled like mint. A-And me told me that he- the... the reason I was there- I-I was being held for ransom, and that after I left, we'd n-never see each other again and I couldn't s-say anything to an-anyone ever... something a-about... I don't..." 

"Did he mention the amount of the ransom, Donnelly?"

"Yes, later... it was 15,000 dollars, I think. T-They couldn't afford it if they wanted to, not at the time."

"What did that tell you about the situation?"

"He, um... he knew we couldn't afford it. He said the ransom was an alternative but wasn't expecting anyone to pay to get me back safely. I-It was more focused on the... client."

"Elaborate on the client."

He sucked in a breath. "His name was Joshua. He was... stout, kind of round, I think. He didn't have a lot of hair, except for a mustache. He called Da- he called F-Fai 'kid' and mentioned that Fai had done this b-before, and even sold someone to him. I think Joshua was going to pay 20,000 for... for me."

The attorney circled around to him and held out a laminated photo. "Is this him?"

Abel's eyes scanned the picture, and his bit down on his lip hard before answering. "Y-Yes."

"Joshua Calhoun was arrested about a year ago under charges of human trafficking and sexual assault," said his attorney, and then faced the jury. "I believe this to be reliable proof of Donnelly's interactions with the alleged kidnapper and with Calhoun, who he most likely would not have come in contact with or known about before his arrest in 2017." A few members of the jury nodded, and Abel felt just a little more secure.

For about twenty minutes he was drilled on his knowledge of the whole trafficking business and his role in the situation. He didn't know much, so they ended up moving onto details about the defendant and his possessions.

The prosecutor, now witness, wiped his eyes. "O-Okay, um... well, he had a maroon... a maroon... it was... a Chevy, I think, one of those smaller ones," he tried again, voice shaking, an accent becoming more prominent in his voice the more anxious he got. "There weren't really... any flowers... anywhere, I guess, not even in the garden. A-And the layout, uh, mostly open plan I think. One of those n-new houses... the main room had light gray walls, and he said they were painted last summer... I-I mean, it w-would have been 2016 then, right?"

All of his information was correct, as was begrudgingly validated by the defendant's attorney. Still, it looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. He was shaking, his skin pale and clammy, his leg bouncing again. 

"In order to inflict every scar you carry, a variety of weapons must have been used. None were found; do you know where they were kept?"

"The stuff he... he... he hu-hurt me with... some o-of it was in the attic, in th-these small boxes, there were w-weapons in his closet and i-in the kit-kitchen, and he... they were everywhere and... I-I couldn't- I- he might h-have moved them to th-the basement after I-I left or- or burned them, or something-" His stammering was getting worse, so he ended up cutting himself off. 

The opposing attorney stood, circling the table to pace before Abel. "The entire property was thoroughly searched, and nothing out of the ordinary was discovered. There was no sign of blood or struggle."

"I object!" the other spoke. "There were holes in the wall of the guest bedroom that had been hastily repaired and hidden behind the bookshelf. They were on the same wall Donnelly claimed to have been chained." 

"My client had taken down a painting, which was presented to me. It has the same dimensions as the spacing of the holes." 

"And are there records of when it was purchased?"

"No. It wasn't investigated."

"It should be." 

Quietly, Abel piped up, "He only owned two paintings... b-both of them were modern, b-black a-and white, just... shapes... h-he didn't keep photos a-around or landscapes o-or..." He trailed off.

"Are you sure? We counted three," the opposition said slowly. Abel nodded, looking down at his hands. 

Abruptly, Abel broke into tears. He slumped forward in his seat, his shoulder knocking the microphone. 

"...A brief intermission," said the judge calmly. With that, the victim was taken out of the courtroom to be calmed down.

The defendant watched him leave with mild amusement glittering in his eyes. Nobody heard him whisper, "Pathetic."


	8. rain in the city of sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arius mourns and has a bit of a talk with suko

Two weeks can drive someone mad. It's enough to tear down your mental health with pleasure. Arius barely slept, so every other day he'd wake up around noon or something while his body desperately tried to keep up. 

Suko's performance at work had been decreasing, but their colleagues seemed to understand. Meanwhile, Arius was left alone in that all too empty apartment. He had all this time to himself to think. His eyes were dry, his tears all spent, but his heart was heavy. He couldn't help but feel disgusted when he caught his reflection. It was his fault, after all, being so reckless and drunk. Even with that gut instinct, he'd let Abel go, and that had cost him. Arius's foolishness had possibly cost his brother his life. 

He'd been thinking about that too. What if Abel wasn't even alive? Wouldn't it be more reasonable to assume he'd been robbed and killed? Maybe he was rotting away in a dumpster somewhere, unnoticed, while people waited for his impossible return. It was a depressing thought. 

He applied for a position at the restaurant Suko worked at, just to occupy himself. He needed to keep his mind off of everything. He was kind of afraid that he'd destroy himself if given too much time to rot as he was.

So far he hadn't gotten a response, from anyone. Not from Abel no matter how many times he called, not from the restaurant. He'd never felt so alone. When Suko got home they'd just sit on the couch blankly. Neither of them spoke to each other most of the time, and even if they did, it was stiff small talk as they tried to avoid the subject of the matter at hand. It hung over their heads like a threatening cloud, ready to strike them down at any moment.

Suko got off of work earlier today. The keys turned in the door's lock and Arius briefly glanced up from his game to catch sight of them. They were tired, hanging up their keys and shrugging off their jacket and shuffling to the kitchen. That tense silence filled the room again. 

For a while Suko just stood in the kitchen, doing nothing, staring at the sink. Then they sighed heavily and meandered their way to the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Arius heard the water running a few minutes later. 

He died in the game again, but none of his teammates bothered to revive him. They just ran by as if he were some insignificant lump on the ground. It was just a stupid game, but it brought his mood down even more.

He quit and when the screen turned black, he grabbed the blanket slung over the back of the couch. He pulled it over himself, turning onto his side. All he wanted to do was sleep. Hibernate until all of this was over. Why did he have to keep waking up each morning, hoping he was dreaming? 

The blanket was scratchy and old, irritating his skin. He didn't bother to move. It was a sensation, and that's all he could ask for anyway. His fingernails scraped at the material of the couch beneath him, filling the dead silence with the quiet sound of texture. He'd always let his fingernails grow out, painting them black when that was still a trend. Abel had always chewed his nails to nubs... god, why did everything have to circulate back to him? 

He'd almost fallen asleep by the time the bathroom door opened, casting too-bright light into the room. Heat washed out of it, the smell of freshness and steam. Arius had his back to the back of the couch, therefore to Suko, but he could picture them. Wrapped in a towel, short hair a dripping wet mess, droplets glittering on their olive skin. He'd become all too familiar with the sad look in their eyes. The anger, too. 

They padded down the hall and into their room. Arius closed his eyes again. 

His phone buzzed, and adrenaline shot through him. He pulled it out of his pocket in a blur, and- oh. It was Suko. And a missed call (and two texts) from Chase, but whatever.

 **Chase:**  
any luck??

 **Chase:**  
seriously man if you need to talk...

He cleared the notifications, not even leaving Chase on read.

 **Yasuko:**  
want to talk?

 **Arius:**  
abt what

 **Yasuko:**  
im about to go to bed so. nows the time

He didn't say anything else. His phone told him that it was nearly nine o'clock; Suko had been sleeping incredibly early lately... maybe it was just to pass the time. Better to be asleep than to stay in their harsh reality.

He stilled the trembling in his hands and slowly stood, a grasp on the back of the couch to steady himself. He made his way toward their room, theirs and Abel's... he wondered where Abel was sleeping now. 

Gently he cracked open the door, noticing quickly the scent of candles. They'd lit a few, casting dancing shadows across the walls. It was quite calming. The three of them usually only lit the candles around holidays to set a mood, but this seemed appropriate anyhow. Some small reminder of whatever scrappy togetherness they had.

Suko was sitting cross-legged on their bed, hands fiddling with the hem of their fuzzy pants and gaze cast down at their lap. They looked like they'd been crying; Arius couldn't blame them for doing so. He slowly sat on Abel's messy bed, resting his hands on the knees of his black jeans. He didn't know how to start the conversation. 

Luckily, Suko took the lead. "Sorry for being such a dick to you," they mumbled, barely coherent. Arius accepted the apology with a slow nod, avoiding eye contact.

"I really fucked up," he admitted. They responded with a blunt, 'yeah,' and silence fell over the room again. 

He shifted awkwardly, scratching at his knee. He tilted his head up to look at Suko, who was still staring intently downward with those red-stained eyes. It seemed they weren't ready to look at him yet. 

"Do you think he's okay?"

Their question caught him off guard, albeit he should have expected it. "Yeah," he said instinctively, like he was trying to shield them from the likely dark truth. "He... doesn't go down easy." That was a flat out lie, and both of them knew it. Abel crumbled at the slightest hint of pressure. He was afraid of the world and what it would do to him. He was easily triggered and clung to others for support when things weren't going right.

Suko sighed; it wasn't the answer they needed, but it was the one they were looking for. They shifted and pulled a blanket over themselves, resting their head on a plush fuzzy pillow. Their hair was a soft puffy ball on their head, still damp but beginning to curl itself again. "Glenn was the last person to see him, Ari." 

He hadn't heard this before. "What?"

"When he went to the store. The one Glenn works at. His car was still there after he disappeared." 

"Isn't that-"

They cut him off. "Suspicious? Yeah," they muttered, "but he wouldn't do that. He's already been questioned anyway. Just says Abel ran out and that's all he saw. He stopped by the restaurant on the seventh to tell me about it."

Arius submitted to another dead lead and nodded, deciding to lay down as well. Now the two of them lay horizontal, staring at each other with the span of the nightstand between them. Another idea came to mind, like a hand grasping at the last sliver of hope. "Have we tried tracking his phone? Police can do that, right?" he suggested.

Their grumble gave him the answer. Nevertheless, they provided a small explanation: "It's either dead or turned off."

The silence between them was tense. Still, Suko managed to look peaceful and closed their eyes. Maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea after all. Just sleep and sleep until it all blew over... 

But his mind was whirring. He couldn't fall asleep, he wasn't even close to tired. It was the sense of fear that kept him up lately. The fear that at any moment, he could receive news, and if he missed it, Abel was fucked and it would be his fault. All his fucking fault, just like Abel's disappearance in the first place.

"Suko?"

"Mmhm?" Eyes still closed.

"Sorry." He'd always been bad with apologies, his pride always got in the way. This time, though, he had nothing to lose. No pride to chip away at. 

"Mm. 'S fine," they mumbled, clearly on their way to dreamland. 

So he let them have that. He fell silent and lowered his gaze, fingernails scraping quietly at the sheets beneath him. He pinched the thin cloth between his fingers and pulled it taut before letting it go, watching the wrinkles change in an instant. He was looking but not really seeing, his eyes staring off into some other word as he plucked at the sheets absentmindedly. He let his eyes slip shut to avoid getting misty-eyed. 

In the other room, his phone buzzed from its place on the couch. He didn't see or hear it until the morning, when he actually cried out as he read it over and over, the text from the phone that was supposed to be dead or turned off.


	9. offer me my deathless death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel thinks he knows exactly what his captor wants him to think he knows

According to his mysterious captor, it had been two weeks. Two very long weeks. 

Abel had never been more restless or claustrophobic in his life. He hadn't been able to leave the bed for two weeks, and could practically feel his muscles deteriorating. The sick bastard once expressed his admiration for how thin Abel was becoming, which made Abel want to vomit all over him.

If that wasn't bad enough, he had _no_ privacy. He had to be fed by hand and have his hair brushed, for one thing. But when he was asleep- sometimes drug-induced, and even if not, if he woke up during the process, he'd be drugged- he would be bathed and changed, completely at the mercy of his kidnapper. _And_ he wore an adult diaper, because 'it would be exhausting to change the sheets multiple times a day.' He felt like a baby. In all those stories about kidnapping, there's never a mention of the whole shitting and pissing issue, but now he knew why. It was just... gross.

They rarely had a full conversation. Always questions and one-word answers both ways. Who are you? Hush. Are you well? No. Are my friends safe? Yes. Are you hungry? Duh. How do you know my friends? Childhood. Why are you crying? You. Why are you doing this? Business. 

Abel hated it.

So he waited and waited. Waited until he finally heard a sound. For the second time that day, the door was opened. More silence, until the bed dipped. The sound of a phone being unlocked. Abel perked up at the noise.

"How much are you worth, Abel?"

_Don't fucking say my name._

"W-What?" 

Ever so casually, his captor replied, "Your brother is willing to negotiate. After all of his voicemails and cursing and tears, of course." At the mention of Arius, Abel gave the man his full attention. His heartbeat more quickly than usual. 

"Are you... holding me for ransom?" he asked hesitantly. 

"If they match the price of my client, I suppose so." The answer was as confusing as it was disturbing.

"You're w-wh- what does that even _mean_?" 

"It means that I am selling you unless your brother can offer me a deal."

Abel felt like he'd been tossed into freezing water. His entire body tensed. He was being _sold?_ That brought a sick feeling to his stomach, and bile threatened to rise into his mouth. He was fucked. He was way over his head. He was... shit, shit, what the hell- no way this was real. Why? Why would anyone even want him? Who was trying to buy his entire fucking life? For what purpose? Why wasn't he gone already? 

"Fancy listening to a message or two?" the man chuckled. Abel furrowed his eyebrows, wanting to spit at him and tell him to fuck off. But he bit his tongue and remained silent.

Apparently, that was a yes in his book, or maybe he just didn't care. Because soon enough Arius's panicked voice was filling the room through the phone. " _Please come back Abel, I fucked up bad. Where the fuck did you go? Are you okay? I'm... I don't even know if you are. Fuck, I'm a fucking failure, please, whoever hears this message, please call me back_."

Abel physically winced. Arius was rarely ever desperate or afraid, but he was certainly both of those things right now. Hearing him at such a weak point made Abel even more afraid. Arius was supposed to be fearless and protective. 

The other messages were similar. His captor seemed to find amusement in them, but with each voicemail, Abel grew angrier and more terrified than before. 

The phone buzzed, and the man made a sound of interest. "Ah, he responded. 'What the fuck do you want from us?' Oh, poor thing, trying to sound tough," he read it off, crooning in some sick manner. 

"Stop," Abel snapped suddenly. " _Stop_. Cut the shit. I don't want to hear this."

A soft chuckle dissipated his courage immediately. "I do not remember giving you a choice, _mo grá_."

Abel lashed out, kicking at him, but the man moved out of the way with a weird throaty growl. Honestly, Abel wanted nothing more than to rip his dick off just like he said he would. Pulverize that shit. Hell, kill the guy anyway.

He kept trying to kick and punch, but his restraints held him back, and- and out of nowhere he was slapped. Hard.

"To think," the man said, right next to Abel's ear, "I was going to cut you some slack." Then he hit Abel again, making him yelp and try to shy away to no avail. Footsteps receded away from the bed, unusual because his captor was typically silent. The door slammed, and Abel flinched. 

There was silence in the room for quite a while. Abel couldn't really keep track of time, not anymore. He assumed it must have been an hour or something like that, because he was drifting off to sleep. Lately, that's all he did. Slept. Passed the time. It was a miserable existence, but what else could he do?

Well, after however long that silence stretched out, the door opened again. It was a quieter noise, so clearly (or at least hopefully) his captor had calmed. Then the door clicked shut and it was silent as he presumably approached the bed. Then fingers curled through his hair, gentle, bringing it out from underneath him. Abel didn't dare move. He just pretended to be asleep, breaths as even as he could make them.

"I know you are awake."

He grimaced. "How?"

The man paused for a moment, still stroking Abel's hair. He seemed to be deep in thought. "When you are asleep, you frown a little. You are always holding onto something, like the blanket. Sometimes you murmur." 

Weakly voicing his thoughts, Abel stammered, "Well, t-that's creepy as shit." He didn't like the thought of his captor watching him sleep, observing such minute things. 

"Watch your tongue or I will cut it off." 

"Wh-"

"It will raise your value, to be missing your tongue."

Abel snapped his mouth shut, disgusted at the notion. All the while, the man brushed his hand through Abel's hair ever so calmly, as if they were simply chatting about breakfast. 

Couldn't be further from the truth, really. 

He shuddered as he sensed the man getting closer to him, the light sensation of breath on his face. He _really_ didn't like this guy's lack of sense for personal space. "Up until today, you have behaved exceptionally, Abel," murmured his captor, making Abel scrunch up his nose in disgust. "I was considering giving you a bit of liberation." 

Okay, that got him interested. He furrowed his eyebrows, deciding to stay quiet, hoping his silence would be inquisitive enough. If freedom was included, he was all in for it. 

"You would like to see, yes?"

Yes. He'd love to be able to look around, to know what time of day it was, to know what he was wearing, to have something to focus on other than his hunger. 

"Give me a verbal answer."

"Y-Yeah." Still, he was a little afraid of actually seeing this guy. What if he was just some creepy old man? That was his assumption, anyway. Probably a middle aged bastard, hunched shoulders, old sweaters. Whatever. He couldn't imagine what else his captor would look like; what kind of person would you have to be to dedicate so much time to kidnapping someone? He was involved with the black market, right? Maybe some old dude with a trench coat then.

A soft chuckle made goosebumps rise on his flesh. "You have to do one mere thing for me, and I will allow you sight," the man said, almost like he was mocking Abel. 

Oh boy. One mere thing, huh? "What is it," he said flatly, not much of a question but more of a statement.

Pause. Abel didn't like whatever was coming. 

"I want you to talk to your brother." 

He froze. God, he _yearned_ to reach out to his friends again. He needed them. And if this was a chance... he was going to take it. Then, being able to see... that'd be useful, if he ever decided to plot escape. 

Cautiously, he asked, "How?" 

"By phone call. Tell him whatever you would like; my only intention is to prove you are alive."

He couldn't believe this. There had to be something else to it, some double edged sword shit, whatever the metaphor was. He could feel his hands trembling. His heart pounded in his ears. Arius. He needed to talk to Arius. Abel could tell him where they were (which his captor had mentioned offhandedly in passing) and... and he could be saved! Shit, his captor probably didn't even realize that Abel knew where he was. Just up north, right past the border of Oregon. What was it, Medford? He knew it was a pretty big place, that it was right _there,_ shit, shit- he could actually do this.

Abel was so busy thinking that he hadn't realized the man was already calling Arius on speaker. The ringtone was the only sound in the room now, other than Abel's rapid heartbeat. Arius picked up after the first ring, silent with presumably bated breath. "A-Ari?" Abel stammered, uncertain that it was actually him. His palms were sweating. 

" _Oh my god-_ " Arius's voice got louder with emotion. " _Oh fuck, shit- Abel? Holy shit-_ "

"I... I'm in Medford, please, please help- Ari oh my god I'm so fucking sorry... please help me." Abel was freaking out. Hearing Arius's voice brought him a great relief. He felt like screaming with the adrenaline pumping through him. 

" _Shit, shit, okay, I'll- okay._ " There was the sound of a pen scratching on paper. " _I-I'll go, shit, fuck, w-where exactly- are you? Are you safe?_ " 

He hesitated at that. 

His silence was taken negatively. " _A-Are you? Are you okay? Are you- did you get out? Abel?_ " Arius blurted, his anxiety clearly getting to him. There was such desperation in his voice that it broke Abel's heart.

"N...no, I'm not." 

Then his captor spoke out of nowhere, his voice a deep rumble, tone carrying threat, "Make a stop in Red Bluff, will you? River Park. We will discuss his-" 

" _FUCK OFF!_ " Arius's voice was hysterical. " _DON'T HURT HIM FUCK YOU GIVE HIM BACK I HATE YOU FUCK YOU!_ "

Abel flinched. "Ari..." 

There was a shaky breath from the other end. " _Y-Yeah?_ " 

"Please... I want to go h-home, just... do what he w-wants." At this, his captor returned his hand to Abel's hair and combed through it, seeming pleased with what he said. Bastard.

" _Yeah. Yeah, I will, okay? I'll... I-I'll get you home, I promise._ " His voice was shaky, but calmer. 

A smug whisper right by his ear, "Two minutes."

Fear struck him again. Two minutes before he was left alone with this man, no Arius. What did he even say? What would matter at this point? The words tumbled out of his mouth. "A-After this ends, I... please call the police, tell them what, where- where I am, and call Suko, Glenn, I don't care. I get to see, after this, because I called you- I'll see!"

" _Y-Ye- What? What do you mean?_ "

"I haven't... been able to see. For... however long it's been," he confessed. "I promise, I'll get back to you, as soon as I can, I-I'll be okay." At this, his captor chuckled. Abel wanted to smack him. Arius's animal-like growl indicated the same. 

After a pause, Arius let out a breath. " _I'm so fucking happy to talk to you. First time ever, huh?_ " he teased, albeit weakly and without much humor. Abel found a small smile winding onto his lips anyway. His heart calmed. 

"Yeah. Makes it... makes it real hard to tell you to fuck off. Must be losing my touch." 

Arius made a small noise of amusement. The man beside Abel seemed displeased with the turn of conversation, fingers curling in Abel's hair and tugging on it slightly. He winced. 

"Ari?" 

" _Yeah_?" 

"I... uh. Love you. Sorry I never really... yeah... I-I just thought you should know." Abel felt relieved finally saying it. They'd rarely said it to each other at all- Arius, in all of Abel's memory, had never said it to anyone except one person (which wasn't Abel). But now felt like an appropriate time. Shit like this made family feel much more valuable. 

For about ten seconds, there was relative silence. A little thump as the phone was set down on the other end, and a few shaky breaths. Abel waited, anxious. 

" _Kid, I... I.._." Arius trailed off. It seemed physically difficult for him to say he loved someone, especially because the only person he'd said it to had left him. " _I-I do too, I can't... shit, I'm sorry, I-_ "

"Please say it," Abel choked out. 

His hair was tugged again, and the voice hissed into his ear, "He does not love you." Abel struggled, wanting to hurt the man, wanting to scream and refuse, but he was held down and his voice was caught in his throat.

" _I do! I- s-shut the fuck up!_ " Arius protested upon hearing his captor, somehow. His voice had grown more desperate. " _I care... a lot... please believe me, Abel, I really-_ "

Silence. The phone had been hung up. Abel shrieked "no!" but that didn't bring Arius's voice back. His eyes stung with tears. Arius had never said it back, despite the circumstances that forced Abel to say it. That hurt. 

And his kidnapper was laughing. That sick bastard, why was he laughing? Abel soon got his answer when the man mocked, "You are so gullible, _mhuirnín’_ , it is almost endearing." Hatred boiled through Abel's veins. How dare this piece of shit speak to him like that in Abel's own native language. It was flat out insulting.

Before he could even open his mouth to let out a string of curses and test how much the man really knew about Gaelic, he was interrupted. "Medford is hundreds of miles from here. Really, I thought you were more intelligent than this. Do you think I care enough to drive all that way just to get you ramen from dear Yasuko's place of work?" He found this hilarious, apparently. His hand left Abel's hair to do something with the chains. 

Abel, shocked, had nothing to say. Because he was right. He'd been completely played for a fool, and now Arius was thrown utterly off track. This meant he was still in Shady Creek, right? Or at least a close location... but now Arius was going to go looking in an entirely new state. Shit. Shit shit shit. He was so _stupid_. 

He started crying then, not for the first time. "Fuck y-you, I-I hate you," he snapped, though its intensity was greatly dulled by his blubbering and the tears now falling down his cheeks and onto the pillow. "FUCK YOU!" The man laughed, making Abel even angrier. He hated himself. He thought he'd been being so smart, but... but this _bastard_ had tricked Abel into helping him. 

Then the man stopped laughing abruptly, and his hand grasped Abel's chin. "Shut up." 

Abel did shut up. 

He'd almost forgotten that his reward for this shit was to see. It felt bittersweet now. He clenched his fists as his captor carefully undid the knot behind his head, leaning over him. The bitch smelled quite strongly of mint. He always did. 

When the cloth was pulled away, he whimpered. The light burnt at his eyelids, searingly bright. His hands automatically went to cover his closed eyes, and he expected them to be pulled back by the chains; they weren't, however. He could still hear the chains rattle, so he was still attached somehow, just... able to move a little more.

He pressed his palms against his eyes and slowly shifted, trying to sit up. All of his muscles ached, his whole body was sore. He felt weak and dizzy. Firm hands guided him to sit sideways on the bed, his back against the wall. 

"Thank me," the man demanded, hands tightening around Abel's biceps. Abel wanted to scowl, but he was afraid of the consequences. He hesitated before murmuring a quiet "thank you." His captor let go and ruffled his hair like he was a dog. Bitchass motherfucker... Abel hated him. But he had to keep that to himself. 

It took probably ten minutes for Abel to adjust to the light. His eyes watered and stung still, though. He squinted, making out a figure in front of him. A rather tall figure, in fact, standing up straight and looking down at him. 

When he was able, he opened his eyes a little wider to take in more details. He could only focus on the man. He was slender, but not thin. His pale arms and hands sported prominent veins, but also lean muscle. He was wearing a white dress shirt (with the first two buttons undone) tucked into black pants. The sleeves were pulled up to just below his elbows. It was a casually formal outfit, but it lacked wrinkles; it had been vigorously ironed. 

His eyes traveled to the man's face. He was surprised to discover how young the guy was. His features were chillingly perfect. Just like his clothes, not a single wrinkle in sight. His skin was clear (except for a few small moles that also showed on his arms) and probably as smooth as it looked. His jaw was chiseled, but not square, kind of slender actually. And his eyes. Shit. His eyes. They looked kind of Korean, but not completely. They were a piercing darkness, such a dark brown that they were black. His presumably dyed black hair was swept up and to the side, almost covering one of his eyes. It was like a haircut a YouTuber would have. The thought amused Abel for only a couple of seconds.

Okay, this was _not_ what he was expecting. This motherfucker was deadass _gorgeous._ He looked like a k-pop idol. 

Abel remained stunned, not even thinking to look around the room. They just stared at each other, eyes locked. Abel couldn't breathe. He didn't realize that he was reaching out until the man seized his wrist in an iron grip. "You need permission to touch me," he said coldly, and let go. 

That broke Abel out of his trance. He sneered, pulling his arm back toward himself. "You're so fucking pretentious," he replied. "I don't want to fucking touch you anyw-" 

_Ow._

He'd been slapped across the face (again- three times in an hour must be a new record) with what must be the man's full force. His head was snapped to the side and he yelped, sure that a red handprint was forming on his cheek. It stung, badly, and he put his hand to it instinctively. 

"Have some fucking respect or I _will_ cut off your tongue." 

Abel seriously didn't doubt that he would. He subconsciously bit his tongue, breaking eye contact. He felt his eyes welling up with more tears. The bastard turned and headed toward the door.

"W-Wait!"

He stopped, not looking back at Abel. "Yes?"

"What... what's your name?" 

The guy hesitated. He was debating his options, for some reason. For a second Abel didn't think he was going to say anything. Thought he was going to walk out and shut the door. Then he murmured, "Damien." 

And that was that. He left. The door locked behind him. 

_Damien, huh?_ It suited his weird uptight accent. It was strange having a name to associate with his kidnapper... his stupidly pretty kidnapper. That perfect bastard. 

Now... the room. It was clean. Really, really clean. OCD level of organized. Rather barren, too. The chains attached to his arms were bolted into the wall above the headboard, and the ones around his ankles led to the posts around the edge of the bed. Both sides had a generous amount of chains coiled up, so when adjusted to their full length, he could probably even make it to the door without strain on his bonds. Right now, he still couldn't leave the bed. 

The bed had gray sheets and a black blanket, which was still tangled around his legs. It was decently sized, like a large twin bed. The floor was made of dark brown planks streaked with different shades. There was a gray rug right next to the bed, a black dresser across the room beneath a window, and a black nightstand right beside the bed. It sported a lamp, white, turned off at the moment. The walls were light gray, or brownish, somewhere in that range. The room generally had a depressing color scheme. 

The window was what Abel was interested in, though. It had gray curtains that were open at the moment, allowing in sunlight. It was latched shut. Beyond its clean panes, he could see a tree- a small backyard, he assumed, and the bare back of another house behind a relatively high fence. No windows he could signal through. He squinted and leaned, trying to see anything else- there, the street. He could barely see it, had to strain to catch a glimpse. 

Bonus: the window was big enough to fit through. He leaned back. That window was going to be his new best friend.


	10. legend has it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arius follows the only lead he has, except everything seems to go wrong

As soon as Abel (or rather, the bastard holding the phone) hung up, Arius lurched out of his seat and scrabbled for the keys that belonged to Abel's car. He didn't have a car of his own, but since Abel couldn't exactly use his own, well... he'd been using it lately. That aside, he made it down to the ground floor in record time and flung the car door open. He threw himself into the seat, slammed the door shut, jammed the key in the ignition, and took off. 

His mind was whirring. Now, Arius wasn't really the top of his class. He wasn't as smart as Abel or Glenn (Suko's boyfriend, that absolute nerd), but he figured he could make some decisions for himself. Still, he was pretty dumb. So he didn't even think of consulting Suko before he left town. He roared down the highway in a haze, his stress causing him to light up a blunt and take a couple of hits while he drove. It always seemed to soothe his nerves. 

Honestly, hearing Abel's voice was probably the highlight of the year. It was relieving enough to know what he was alive, but to have _evidence_ of it, to hear him alive and well (at least okay) made him... happy. Not really happy exactly, but... what was the word? Okay? Fine? It drew him out of his deep depression at least, just for a while.

His phone buzzed. Arius immediately picked up, one hand still on the wheel. "What." 

Unexpectedly, Chase's voice rang through the speakers, " _Hi Ari-_ "

"Arius to you," he snapped.

" _Ah,_ " Chase mumbled, sounding hurt, " _well anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to-"_

"No," Arius said firmly. "I'm really in hot water here, dipshit, and I have somewhere to be."

" _You never have places to be._ "

"Well right now I do. So shut up."

" _Where are you going?_ "

"Why do you want to know?" he asked irritably. 

" _Because it's gotta be important for you to actually leave your apartment. Besides, I have info on Abel._ "

"Tell me right the fuck now."

" _Answer me first._ "

Arius sighed, exasperated. But he'd do whatever he could to learn something that would possibly help in his search for his brother. "Going to meet his fucking captor, that's what I'm doing. Now tell me."

" _You're WHAT? Excuse me, I might be stupid, but I'm not_ that _fucking stupid!_ "

"I don't remember asking for your opinion!"

" _Stop acting like a toddler, Arius! What the fuck do you think is gonna happen? This is dangerous."_

"You think I fucking care?"

" _Yeah, because if you die, then Suko's fucked and so is Abel._ "

"I won't."

" _At least take me with you. I promise I'll fill you in on what I know if you do._ "

Arius groaned. "No. We had a deal."

" _Seriously! I'm not pulling bullshit! Just pick me up, I'll be at the gas station a few blocks down from where I used to live._ "

"No, Chase." Then he hung up.

Despite this, he somehow ended up taking the turn that led him to the gas station. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the loneliness, or fear of something happening to him and nobody would know, or... something. He told himself it was because he needed as much information on Abel as possible. Probably not true.

Besides, he hadn't had a friend in years... so maybe... maybe....

 _Shut up,_ he told himself mentally. _You're better than this._ He didn't have to sink so low as to meet with a lowlife crackhead (or whatever drugs he was doing nowadays) who was just a damn attention whore. He didn't _need_ to see Chase, but to hell with it. He'd probably need someone who was good with guns. 

Oh yeah, Chase is also pretty fucking good with guns. Real good at aiming one at himself.

He slowed next to the curb and rolled down his window, shooting a glare at the man who stood on the sidewalk with the dumbest grin Arius had ever seen. "You showed up," he said delightedly, and Arius sneered. 

"Get the fuck in and tell me what you know right now."

Chase got into the passenger seat, enviously eyeing the blunt Arius had between two fingers. Whatever. Arius handed it to him so he could take a hit, then put it out to focus on driving. He pulled out onto the street again and started heading north, getting back onto the highway. 

After a pause, Chase looked down at his lap sheepishly. "I don't... actually know anything... about Abel. I just- just wanted to make sure you didn't die or something. And I feel like we should talk becau-" 

He was lucky to get that far into the sentence. Arius almost crashed the car out of anger right then and there. "I fucking hate you, Chase, you're such a piece of shit. You fucking liar. You're fucking lucky I haven't thrown you out of this car and left your alcoholic ass for dead on the side of the road," he ranted, swearing profusely. 

"Sorry," Chase squeaked. "I'm not trying to be selfish, I-" 

"SHUT UP!" Arius shouted, grip painfully tight on the steering wheel as he tried to keep control of himself. Chase went silent immediately, looking genuinely startled and afraid. Arius might have felt a pang of guilt, but shoved it deep down.

They were quiet for the next ten minutes. Red Bluff wasn't so far from where they lived, maybe about a twenty-minute drive. Then to Medford... who knows. Arius was still contemplating whether he should throw Chase out of the car or not. But then again, he hadn't picked Chase up for the _sole_ purpose of getting 'information.' 

He turned on the radio to drown out the silence. He cranked the volume up and stared right ahead, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and exhaustion. He hadn't slept well the past few weeks, which was probably the reason for his emotions running so high. He was like a girl on her period. 

Fifteen minutes into the drive Chase begged, "Can we _please_ talk, Arius?" 

Arius wanted to smack him. "No." 

"I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry, and I know I fucked up! I really fucking regret it, okay?"

"I don't care," he replied coldly. Chase flinched.

"I feel like a stranger again," he admitted. "Please talk to me, Arius, I know you're fucking stubborn but-"

"Talk about _what,_ Brady? Do you want me to apologize for being so fucking harsh after you fucked that wh-"

"Stop!" Chase cried out, not liking how Arius was using his last name again. "No! I don't- I don't want some superficial apology, I don't even deserve your forgiveness... and she's not like that! It was a one-time thing." 

Arius snorted. Chase corrected himself, "T-Three times." 

There was an unbearable tension between them. Arius felt so fucking angry that he could probably explode at any moment. He was a ticking time bomb. And Chase knew that all too well, but he was stuck in a confined space with the man, meaning he really had to shut up or he was screwed. So he made the right choice and shut up.

They arrived in Red Bluff and Arius began driving around, looking for that park Abel's captor had mentioned. River Park. It was ingrained into his mind, repeating over and over like a broken record. 

_There._ A sign by a lake or something. The park was mostly a small field and a sad-looking playground. There was a lone figure by the water, staring directly at the two of them. Arius tensed, pulling into a parking spot and throwing himself out of the car. Chase hurried to follow him. The car locked and Arius was already halfway across the field, posture suddenly fixed upright and his fists clenched. Chase stared at him for a moment, heart fluttering, then lurched forward and jogged across the field toward him. 

Together they approached the figure. "Ari," Chase whispered, "this is really, really dangerous...."

Arius ignored him. "Who are you?" he yelled at the person, who was clad in black. Their face was hidden by a hood. 

"Not who you're looking for, unfortunately," replied the figure, whose voice identified them as a he (at least, if he was cis). "I'm just a messenger." 

Angrier now, Arius snapped, "What message?" 

"That you're a dumbass, and the man you're looking for wouldn't even have enough time to drive down here. He's still up in Medford, so I don't know what you expected, but...."

He nodded to someone behind Arius, who whirled around just to receive a punch to the face. He grunted and stumbled backward, taken by surprise. Chase rushed to try to help him, but he was kicked hard in the knee and buckled. Two other guys had come out of nowhere, looking similar to the first in attire. Chase, on the ground, shielded his face as he was ruthlessly kicked. Arius on the other hand was struggling to stay on his feet, defending himself. 

It was so sudden that neither really knew what to think. Chase was scared, and Arius was flat out furious. Still, with the power of two people, they took him down. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Chase shrieked, trying to grab one of the guys attacking Arius. He was kicked again, and sputtered as dirt filled his mouth. 

Arius was in pain. Each kick was a jab to his ribs, and they kept stomping on his arms, punching his face, rolling him toward the water. He managed to trip one of them up by catching their foot, but it was a tiny victory that lasted only a second or two. Someone kicked his throat and he gagged, unable to breathe. He coughed as he sucked in a breath. 

Then he was submerged, and his clothes were soaked, and he kept getting splashed. He clawed at the mud as they continued to attack him. There was so much anger pent up inside him, but he couldn't get it out. He just clamped his mouth shut and continued to struggle, refusing to give them any satisfaction. 

And then they were running away with whoops and hollers, and Arius was left in the mud, water lapping at him hungrily. He groaned, body throbbing with pain. He was sure that he was covered in bruises. He lay there until Chase came running, asking if he was okay and if he could stand and apologizing because he couldn't help and- well, Arius just told him to shut up and climbed to his feet. Chase steadied him even as Arius shoved him away. 

"I told you it was stupid!" Chase insisted, and when Arius looked at him he saw tears pooling in those baby blue eyes. He looked away before he could feel bad about it. 

"I'm going to Medford." 

Chase's mouth dropped open. "You have to be kidding me! Look at yourself!" he said. Arius did look at himself, disgusted. He was covered in mud and still dripping water. He was bleeding a bit, and there were ugly purple bruises forming on his exposed skin. He'd gotten the worst of it. Chase was bruised and dirty, but generally in better shape. 

"You can walk home or whatever. I'm going," Arius said anyway, stalking back toward the car with his blood boiling. 

"It's like a three-hour drive, dude!" 

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Fuck you, Watson."

Arius actually snickered at that one. Chase brightened upon hearing him laugh, even if it was a little one. "I'm fucking going," said Arius firmly, unlocking the car. "You can go suck a dick."

They both ended up back in the car, getting dirt everywhere. Arius shifted uncomfortably, still soaked. It hurt to move. He tried to ignore it and started the car, getting back onto the street and trying to get a mental map to Medford. The radio was blasting again, and they were on their way. 

It was a _long_ drive. They were mostly quiet, other than little comments from Chase on some billboards and Arius's grumbles about everyone else on the road. 

The car smelled awful. Both of them smelled awful. It was awful.

"Chase," Arius said, an hour in as Chase was drifting to sleep. At the sound of his voice, Chase perked up. "What really happened with Stephanie?"

His face fell. "Uh... she was just... a fling... since sophomore year. Then I met you, and yeah... shit happened. I'm really sorry. I was really dumb, and drunk, and impulsive... I really shouldn't have done what I did."

"I know," he said flatly. "But why, and when? It was three times while we were... whatever. Right? What made you decide to fucking do that?" His voice grew more sour with each sentence. 

"Y-You know Stephanie. She's... she's just... I don't know, she was so pretty, and... and I was so drunk... and I just... I thought it was just one time, and it's not like you hadn't cheated either so maybe I was getting even... but we fucking forgot protection and... t-that's where Grayson. You know." Chase's face was burning with shame. Arius frowned, grip on the wheel tightening again. It was a habit, especially while driving, to tense up and clench his fists when he was angry. He used to- and still sometimes did- punch things or people when he was angry, but he'd had to work on that.

Chase continued before Arius could butt in to insult him, "She didn't figure it out until after our second time, a-and I felt so fucking stupid, and she hated me, and that whole shit show... I-I don't know how I convinced her to keep him. But _god,_ she was so fucking furious. And... you were too, obviously. I'm so sorry, Ari." 

"Your apologies are worthless, Brady." He always tended to call Chase by his last name when he was angry, too. He used to do it when he was teasing as well, or just being an asshole, but those days had lost themselves in the wind. 

"S-Sorry," Chase mumbled, looking out of the window. "I was just so shitfaced and I thought it was okay, for some reason, and obviously it wasn't, but I went ahead anyway because I was such a dumbass, when I was sober again I regretted it so so much and that's why I avoided you and started drinking again and that's how the second time happened because I was hiding away at a party and she saw me and talked to me and nobody else talked to me and I couldn't think and I was so scared and I thought you hated me and-"

"Yeah, shut up," Arius said, cutting off his rambling. Chase sniffed, ducking his head to hide his face under the brim of his cap. That dumb cap he'd been wearing since eighth grade, that dumb thing Arius had gotten attached to. 

They left the radio to fill the silence for a while because Arius had heard all he could handle. 

And then with one hour left to go, Chase piped up, "I-I have two kids now, Ari...."

He almost crashed the car again. "You fucking _what_?" he hissed, shooting Chase a glare.

"A-After you left and ignored me... I just... Steph was just there and... she took it all away for a while and we got high together and I thought it was gonna be okay, but- but then she told me, I swear to god she wanted to kill me... she had it after graduation. Her name is Emily... Stephanie has custody of both of them and I-I barely get to see them... but I just thought, if we were sharing all the truths right now, you have to know. Grayson's... he's almost eight, and he's an absolute angel. Emily's got to be like... six and a half? I don't really know...."

Arius grunted, not really interested in that shit. "I really want to kill you right now, dude," he sighed. 

"Yeah. Same. As in me." 

"Still? Thought you were on meds." For once he showed a flash of concern, glancing over briefly. 

"Went broke because I'm a dumbass. I can't afford them, so, guess I'm fucked," Chase muttered, embarrassed. 

"Christ," was all Arius could muster before pressing his lips shut to avoid saying anything else. Even if he hated Chase a whole lot, there was still some worry and care buried deep. It was one of those emotions that he'd locked up and thrown away, hoping never to remember it again. And there it was. Son of a bitch.

When they reached Medford, they stepped out of the car with equal discomfort. They were caked in dirt. Arius looked like an absolute mess. Both were bruised pretty bad, drawing a lot of looks. 

Arius took out his phone, feeling at least a little triumphant that he'd made it all this way and he was one step closer to Abel. 

**Arius:**  
im in medford what the fuck do you want now

It took way too long for the other person to respond, although according to the clock it was only ten minutes.

 **"Abel":**  
You actually drove all the way?

 **"Abel":**  
Get the fuck out of Medford or there will be consequences to both you and your brother, Arius. 

So with that threat in mind, he went searching. The sudden panic in those texts pretty much confirmed it in his mind. He and Chase searched everywhere. He got no sensation of being in the right place. In fact, he felt like he was always in the wrong place. It took hours of looking, and there was no obviously suspicious building, no sign that his brother had been there. 

"Are you sure he's even here? Like. Couldn't that dude be misleading you?" Chase asked hesitantly as Arius grew increasingly frustrated. 

"No, he's... he's got to be here, he has to be _somewhere,_ " he said, heading back to the car to drive around the area. He was desperate, but deep down he knew he was being played for a fool. "Why would Abel lie...?"

"Because he was lied to?" Chase suggested. 

Arius shook his head. Chase frowned but continued to follow him as they searched. 

**Arius:**  
youre not actually in medford are you.

 **"Abel":**  
Are you fucking stupid? 

**Arius:**  
abel said you were though.

 **"Abel":**  
And he paid the price.

 **Arius:**  
dont you fucking dare hurt him

 **"Abel":**  
I will if you come near us again. We have a deal. You pay, and you get him back. No police involved, no hero complex bullshit.

Arius didn't answer that text. He turned to Chase. "We have to get the police involved," he said, completely contradicting what he'd just been told. "He's here. He's fucking here, somewhere."

Chase's eyes widened. "Okay," He said dubiously. "As long as we're careful... I hope you're right." 

And it was at that moment that Suko decided to call. 

" _Where the FUCK are you and where the FUCK is the car_?"


	11. oh my, my, my

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel decides to throw up the drugs in his food and regrets it

A rapid heartbeat can mean a variety of things. It can mean you're scared, of you've got a rush of adrenaline, or you're nervous, or flustered. It could mean you're having a medical issue or you can't breathe, or you're excited.

Abel's heart beat quickly every time the door opened, and it fluttered every time his kidnapper met his gaze. He chalked it up to fear. But there was always a part of him that thought, _shit, he's hot._ The absolute worst circumstance to be incredibly gay. It had to be fear, though. It better be fear.

Well, physical attraction couldn't be helped, so he couldn't be shamed for that- right? You can't help it when someone's just gorgeous. You can hate someone and still admit that they're attractive. And Damien totally knew the effect he had on people. He _had_ to, with the way he walked and spoke and gestured and his expressions... he had to have practiced. Abel never mentioned any of it. They hadn't talked a lot since the Arius incident.

Speaking of Arius, he was worried. Damien hadn't updated him at all on Arius's state. And just because Abel had been dumb, his brother was probably looking everywhere _except_ Shady Creek. 

So when he wasn't preoccupied with his worries about Arius, he was thinking about Damien. How much he hated Damien's awfully controlled expressions and his regal-ass name and the way he laughed when Abel was at a loss for words and that satisfied gaze when Abel was at his mercy. Bitch. 

He was so relieved that he could see and move now, though he hadn't tried to properly stand yet. He tried once and collapsed, where he was left lying weakly on the floor for a couple of hours. He was so _weak,_ it was infuriating. 

His favorite thing to do lately was look through the window. He liked being able to see what time of day it was, and what the weather was like. Sometimes he'd see birds and squirrels. He'd watch the leaves rustle. Every once and a while Damien would be there, tending to what must be a small garden just out of Abel's sight. He never looked back at Abel.

There must be drugs in the food, because Abel was exhausted almost constantly. When he woke up from a nap, he was often changed into a new pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Sometimes he'd wake up to Damien pulling a comb through his relatively long hair or putting it into a bun. He did so with such care... he never even acknowledged Abel waking up. He'd glance at his face and continue with his hair. 

It was week three or something like that. He was ready to begin testing the waters. It was clear things weren't going to improve; he was still tired (probably drugged) and Damien's general creepy aura wasn't fading. So after he was given dinner, and Damien had left, he shoved a finger down his throat and threw up in the trash can beside the bed. His chest hurt with the effort of staying silent even as he gagged. Shame, because the food was genuinely good. His vomit was vile and bitter, leaving a burning feeling in his throat and a gross taste in his mouth.

Then he laid down, chains clinking. He absently rubbed at his wrists. The chains weren't digging into his skin, but they hurt sometimes. He hated them nevertheless. 

He curled up, pulling the blankets to his chin, and drifted off to sleep without much trouble. It had gotten easy, because he was always so tired and incredibly bored. He could swear that he'd never slept so much in his life. It was rather miserable....

When he was awake next, he was in a new environment. He could tell without opening his eyes. It smelled kind of sweet, and he was warm. And wet. He heard water. _Shit._

His eyes snapped open, and panic rose to his chest. He immediately flushed and his heart pounded, hands emerging from the bathwater to wrap his arms around himself. Around his bare torso. He'd always been self conscious of his body, his weight, his skin- which was covered in freckles, especially on his shoulders- and his... scars. They were white and thin now, but clearly present. Although he knew Damien had seen him like this so many times (which made him incredibly uncomfortable to think about), this was way different because he had to endure it. It was his own fault, but he didn't really intend for this to happen....

"That will teach you not to throw up the food I give you, hm?" a deep voice mocked him. Damien was right behind him. Abel whirled around to scramble against the other side of the tub, trying to sink underwater and hide. Water splashed dangerously closely to the edge of the tub. Considering how organized everything was, that would have definitely pissed Damien off. Abel tried to stay still, though his shudder made the water ripple.

His captor stood upright at the other end, fully clothed in a maroon dress shirt tucked into black slacks again. His hair was ever so slightly out of place, and as if he caught Abel noticing, he ran a hand through it and tilted his head. "We are almost done, anyhow," he added. As if that was reassuring. Well. It kind of was. But Abel wanted to be done, period. 

Damien knelt beside him and Abel shied away. His captor's lip twitched in irritation, but it was subtle. He reached out and brushed a strand of Abel's brown hair behind his ear. The oddly intimate gesture made Abel wildly uncomfortable, but his face betrayed him by turning pink anyway. Damien glanced at the blush but didn't react, just reached for the shampoo and squeezed some onto his hand. He was so nonchalant about everything, it was almost infuriating. Not almost, it was utterly infuriating, and if he weren't afraid for his safety he'd punch Damien.

"Turn around." It was a demand. Abel frowned, shaking his head. He didn't want to have his back to Damien. He would feel even more helpless than he already did. He didn't want-

When he failed to comply, a firm hand grasped his hair and yanked it, snapping Abel's head to the side. Abel made a noise of surprise and pain, trying to struggle, but what was the point? Damien pulled Abel's hair toward himself and put on it a sweet-smelling shampoo. He wasn't gentle. His warm breath hit the back of Abel's neck, bringing out goosebumps on his arms. Abel couldn't be more uncomfortable. 

It only took a few minutes, but it felt way longer. When Damien was done rinsing his hair, he drew back and stood. Abel turned his head back, arms wrapped tightly around himself, and watched Damien take a towel from its position folded neatly on the counter. "Why are you doing this?" he mumbled, tilting his head forward to let his hair fall over his face. 

Damien turned, towel draped over one arm. He regarded Abel sternly. "Elaborate."

Bitterly, Abel asked, "Why are you taking care of me?"

For a few seconds there was no answer. Damien approached him, staring down at him from his towering height. "I am being a decent human being. My client will pay more if you are physically well... but now that I think of it, your brother would pay anything to get you back if he thought I were treating you poorly. Perhaps I should leave the choice up to you," he replied, then chuckled as if it were some small thing. Abel narrowed his eyes.

"You want me to tell you if I want to go back home or be sold for god knows what?" It didn't seem like a hard decision, until he actually thought about it. Damien didn't say anything, just smirked down at him until he got it. "Wait- he can't pay that much! W-We're barely out of debt right now, you can't force him to cough up money he doesn't have!"

"Well, that is up to him. He can owe me debt for years upon years... or you can be sold alive and healthy to a well-paying client." That smug bitch....

Abel was speechless. There was no way they could pay the ransom, and getting in debt with his kidnapper seemed like an _awful_ idea. But wouldn't it be better than... what Damien had planned with him? Maybe Arius could just take the whole debt thing. They could call the police as soon as Abel got back, because there was no way this was legal, and it wasn't an actual debt. Right?

As if he read Abel's mind (again), Damien said, "I am a dangerous man to be involved with, darling. If you do not play by my rules, nobody you love will survive to see the outcome of this... _conflict._ " 

Yikes.

"Stand up." 

The mood shifted abruptly. Abel had been so busy thinking of the future that he'd forgotten he was in a bath, his skin wrinkling due to the warm water. He quickly realized the implications of standing up (or trying to)- exposing himself, completely, which was especially awful because that was _Damien,_ who was so physically perfect but so judgmental and cruel and had _no_ physical boundaries, which was even worse, and he'd honestly rather die than-

"I told you to stand up," Damien repeated, his voice harsher now. "You have no idea how kind I have been thus far. Do not fuck it up for yourself. Cooperate." Abel grimaced. He didn't think his captor had really been all that kind, other than keeping him clean and feeding him. But he probably shouldn't ruin Damien's delusions. 

His body felt frozen there in the tub. He couldn't move, couldn't really process the action he should be doing. Shame kept him rooted in place, even though he _knew_ Damien had seen him like this before. He knew he should stand. He couldn't stand. Physically and mentally, he couldn't stand. 

"I-I can't," he mumbled, dropping his gaze. He was trembling, and it wasn't because the water was cooling down. He heard Damien lightly set the towel down and saw him kneel by the bathtub again. His expression was stone cold, but his eyes burned with anger. He obviously had a control issue, or at least a short temper....

All of this plus endless worries ran through Abel's mind at light speed, so overwhelming that his anxiety was spiking high on the charts and he couldn't breathe properly. He tried to focus on the water to ground himself, and it worked for a few seconds, up until he was shoved underwater. 

His eyes flew open in surprise and then shut as they burned intensely from the soap and water. He accidentally inhaled water and felt panic seize his body as it filled his lungs. He wasn't aware that he was kicking and squirming, he couldn't really think at all actually. All he knew was that Damien's hand was around his throat and he was drowning.

Then he was pulled above water and he gasped, sputtering, water and spit running down his chin. He got a lungful of air before he was pushed back under. This was repeated only twice more before he was pulled above water and kept there, face to face with Damien. Abel couldn't hear, couldn't really see, and could barely breathe. He recognized the panic attack from miles away. He shoved at Damien, trying to get rid of his grasp, but he couldn't. 

They were so close that their noses almost touched. "Did I prove my point?" Damien hissed, unflinching as Abel coughed and sputtered all over him. Abel nodded as much as he could, still gasping for air. All he could smell and taste was soap and mint. His trembling hands reached for Damien's shirt, clutching the fabric between his fingers. He shoved Damien away, and was allowed to- Abel fell back against the back of the tub and began to give great, ugly sobs as the water sloshed around him. He covered his face with his hands and cried. He was a grown man, in a bathtub, crying.

Damien left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Abel to work through his panic attack alone. He rocked back and forth, crying until he had a headache, wishing Suko was there to hug him and tell him that they were there, that he was safe, giving him blankets and calming objects. He wanted his family back.

When he was done, he tried to slowly climb out of the tub. His legs were jello. His muscles were unused. Very carefully, he stepped out onto the rug and braced himself against the counter. The bathroom was small but functional, organized and monochrome just like the bedroom. He looked at the array of hygienic objects on the counter through blurry vision.

Right... his eyes- they stung. Abel leaned over the sink and tried to wash out his eyes. He attempted to wash the tear stains off of his face and wiped beneath his eyes as if he could erase the redness. 

Then he wrapped the towel around himself and pulled his hair back into an awfully messy bun (it didn't even look cute) to keep it from dripping all over. He sniffled again, wiping his face with his arm, and tried to take deep breaths. Clothes were folded on the counter, which he shakily managed to put on. A loose pair of sweatpants and a green t-shirt. When he lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror, he saw first that the shirt brought out his eyes. Did Damien do that on purpose? It didn't really matter. Abel looked like a mess. His face was blotchy from crying and his eyebrows were still furrowed, wrinkling his forehead. He tried to release the tension, drawing his eyebrows apart and taking a few deep breaths. 

He brushed his own hair (hesitantly taking it out of its bun) and teeth, relieved to be able to do even the simplest of tasks on his own. He still sniffed occasionally and wiped at his eyes, but was calming down. He was just glad to be alone and slightly independent, even if it was temporary. This place was driving him insane. 

He _really_ regretted throwing up his food. He supposed it was a small mercy that Damien drugged him.

There was still water in his ears, making his head feel all plugged up and stuffy. He made an expression of distaste, his hated for his captor boiling. One day he was going to get what was coming for him. 

"Are you done?" The voice startled him to the point that he jumped and covered his mouth to stop himself from making a noise. He dropped his hand and breathed in for three seconds, held it for three, and exhaled for three. Then he faced the door, uncertain. His hair was still wet and hung around his shoulders, his face still blotchy, fingertips still shriveled like raisins, and his eyes were still red- he was nowhere near presentable. Then again, was he ever?

"Go away," he said boldly, feeling like he was going to regret it. There was silence. Abel clenched his fists, glancing at himself in the mirror for a moment before turning back to the door. "J-Just leave me alone for once."

Bad move. The lock clicked and Abel rushed to put his back against the door, holding it shut. "Abel," said Damien rather calmly, "stop acting like a child." 

"I don't want to fucking see you!" 

"That is unfortunate, because I will be here until somebody pays up." Then he chuckled a bit. "Would you like a blindfold?" 

Panicky and getting angrier, Abel replied, "Absolutely fucking not. G-Go away." The door was pushed lightly from the other side, and Abel pushed his back against it harder. He felt childish and afraid.

His kidnapper hummed, his voice so close- the door was the only thing between Abel and certain doom. "Come out willingly or the blindfold and gag go back on," he said. _Oh shit._ There was no way Abel would let that happen, but at the same time, he had too much pride to just walk out and see Damien's smug-ass face. 

"What if I don't let you in?" he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"I will get in and you will regret it." Ominous, but probably true.

Abel really didn't want to go out there. He paused, leaving a full minute of silence between them. Damien wasn't doing anything, at least from what he could tell. His heart was picking up the pace, it was the only thing he could hear at the time. Just his heart. Reminding him that he was screwed if he didn't get out of there.

"Last chance."

_Oh shit._

Was it worth his pride to be deprived of speech and sight again? Was it more valuable to prove himself to be stronger than Damien expected him to be? Or was it in his best interest to walk out with his tail between his legs like a good boy? He despised that thought, but he _knew_ Damien would make him regret it. He thought back to those fiery eyes, the complete lack of hesitation before Abel was pushed underwater over and over. No regular person would do that without regretting it- Damien was messed up and wouldn't hesitate to hurt Abel, no doubt. 

This train of thought was making him more panicked, his heart pounding harder, like a drum on his skull. He couldn't handle another panic attack. Not now. 

He really, really wanted Suko.

Why the hell was _he,_ of all people, being held captive in a maniac's house for ransom slash human trafficking? He was so insignificant, such an unimportant person, that he might as well be invisible. So why was it him? This wasn't some sort of sick fanfiction in which he was conveniently kidnapped by a hot guy. There _had_ to be a method to this madness. 

The door was pushed on harder, so that it cracked open, and Abel swore. He made up his mind in a hurry and jumped away from the door, opening it, head down. "T-There," he muttered, unwilling to look up and see the smirk that he knew was there. 

A hand reached out and brushed through Abel's hair gently, making him hunch his shoulders in discomfort. Then the hand grasped his hair tightly and wrenched him closer, making him yelp. Damien's breath hit his ear- he was _way_ too close for comfort- and the bastard whispered, "Maybe you deserve to be mistreated, _mo grá._ " 

Abel shoved him away without thinking, wincing because Damien didn't let go of his hair. He quickly retaliated and Abel doubled over with a wheeze, the air having been knocked out of him by a punch. That was definitely going to bruise. He didn't get time to recover, and was kicked in the knee. He dropped to one knee, another kick promptly placing him on the floor. He whimpered quietly, trying to scramble away, but Damien hoisted him up bridal style and practically threw him onto the bed, face down. He pushed Abel down with a hand on his back (a warning) and began to secure the chains around his limbs. 

He didn't struggle. He'd had enough for one day. He wanted to cry but there were no more tears left. He lied still as he was restrained, didn't move when Damien placed a hand on the back of his head. "Do you know what happened to your brother after you misled him?" he asked quietly, though his tone sounded like a threat.

When Abel didn't respond, Damien answered, "He went to Red Bluff and got the shit beat out of him." 

Abel felt cold, suddenly. He turned his head and looked at Damien with tired, red eyes, silently asking if it was true. He was expecting Damien to smile but he didn't; his expression was as cold as Abel felt. "He honestly believed you. He approached a suspicious figure and proceeded to be beaten until he was covered in mud and water. Apparently, he brought some twink along with him as well." 

Flinching, he turned his head away from Damien and stared somberly at the wall. He didn't want to imagine Arius hurt and weak. He didn't want to believe Damien. He never wanted this to happen, never wanted Arius to get hurt at all....

And who was the 'twink'? Arius didn't really have friends.

"Bravo, Abel. You were useful for once." 

Then Damien was walking away, and the door shut soon after. Abel turned on his side and buried his face in his hands, legs curling up to his chest as if it would give him some sense of security.

The fact that the bathroom was attached to his room completely eliminated the possibility of escaping into the rest of the house- as if he had any chance in the first place. At the moment he was angry and scared, just wanting to scream and run and... do _something._ He had so much pent up emotion and couldn't do anything with it.

He tucked himself under the blanket and clutched it under his chin, trying to seek warmth and safety. It was impossible, seeing as he was in the residence of some sort of psychopath, oh yeah, and also chained to the wall. He tried his best anyway, squeezing his eyes shut and taking some deep breaths. He felt his hair wetting the pillow beneath him but he didn't want to move. It felt smooth against his cheek, but cold... at least it was familiar. 

It must have been three in the morning or something. Maybe five, he had no idea what Damien's sleep schedule was like. It was dark outside though, only moonlight illuminating the room. All he could hear were his own sniffles and unsteady breathing. He was definitely bruising. He was scared, and exhausted, and hungry.

He'd kill for a pizza. 


	12. visitation of the ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> suko and their boyfriend get most of the high school gang back together but it was a bad idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a little tiny bit of sexual stuff near the end

The police had been searching Medford for five days. There was absolutely no sign of Abel nor his arrogant captor. Arius was _sure_ that Abel had to be there, it was the only lead he had. He clung to that sliver of hope, but with each passing day it became harder and harder to hold on. 

Suko was just as active as he was in the investigation. They were down at the police station often---that or hanging up flyers around town just in case. On Monday, they had driven to Medford to hang up flyers and were gone for the better portion of the day. At night, he noticed that they tossed fitfully and got very little sleep. He knew this because he wasn't sleeping either. Like Suko, he'd often try to call or text Abel's phone, but it appeared that they both got totally cut off. The phone was shut off again, or dead, whatever. They couldn't reach him.

He and Chase hadn't spoken since he'd dropped Chase off after the Medford thing. Arius didn't want to talk to him. Maybe that was a lie, actually. It was nice having someone around---but still. Fuck that guy.

Arius was on the couch, lying down with his head on the armrest and one leg bent upward. His phone was gripped between his hands and his earbuds were in. He was on a crime show binge. 

Suko strolled in, eyes also on their phone. "Arius," they said, then when he didn't respond they said it louder. "Arius!" He glanced up for a moment, then looked down. He wasn't giving them his full attention, but it was his way of showing that he was listening, at least partially. "You should come with me to Glenn's apartment. Mari's there too."

He grunted. Suko took their eyes off their phone and tapped Arius's nose pointedly. He scrunched up his face and paused his video. "Why?"

"We both feel like shit. You know we have to get out of this house. Apartment. Whatever." Their logic was sound, but at the moment, Arius really didn't want to move. Bruise-colored bags hung under his eyes. He was exhausted and unmotivated. He hadn't eaten, feeding into his fatigue and making his muscles feel weak. He was sure that if he stood, he would black out. He tried to convey all of this through a grunt and unpaused the video. 

"Fine," they said, "but Glenn's making lunch. Don't complain to me when you're hungry." 

He groaned, shutting off his phone and pulling out his earbuds. "Shut up, I'm going," he muttered. He propped himself up on an elbow, feeling lightheaded already. Suko put a hand on their hip, and though they weren't smiling, he could tell that they were a little smug. 

When he stood up, he almost collapsed. He should really eat and drink something. Suko shot him a look that said the same thing. He ignored them and made his way to his room to get changed out of the sweatpants and shirt he'd been wearing for three days. After a couple of minutes he walked out wearing his regular "I'm going outside for once" attire: ripped black jeans that clung to his skin and a maroon t-shirt. He put in black earrings, ran a comb through his dark hair, and paused in front of the mirror for a moment. He'd been considering dying the top of his hair green again. But did they even have the money for that? Did he have the motivation to take care of it? 

Suko ended up being the one to drive them to Glenn's place. It wasn't too far, just closer to the center of town. His apartment was of better quality than theirs. He was always a gracious host, but sometimes Arius couldn't help but feel jealous. Glenn seemed perfect. He supported himself, had a loving romantic partner, and looked handsome as hell.

Upon arriving they buzzed up to the apartment, were allowed access, and took the elevator. Arius crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the elevator, clenching his teeth. Elevators always made him nauseous. Suko looked at him and kind of smirked, but it was halfhearted. Their mind was still occupied. As was his.

When they stepped out Arius staggered, almost falling. He was so lightheaded, so weak. How long had it been since he'd eaten something substantial? How long since he'd had a glass of water? Suko grabbed his arm and steadied him. Once he was stable he pulled away, not liking the physical contact. He and Suko had never been close. Neither had he and Abel, until now apparently. He hadn't been close with anyone except... shit, why did he dwell on this so often?

They knocked on Glenn's door and waited. There were voices inside, an excited "I'll get it!" and a calmer "nah, someone's fist will slip and land on your face- I'll get it." Someone laughed. A lock was undone and the door opened, revealing Glenn's open arms. Suko immediately grabbed him into an embrace, and he grinned.

Arius just stood there, arms crossed again. His expression was sour. The two of them looked so perfect, Suko considerably shorter than their boyfriend, fluffy dyed hair tickling at his cheek, his glasses slightly offset by their hold. Their hand brushed through the soft brown hair that almost fell to Glenn's shoulders and his rested on their back. He had a large frame, but it was very little fat- he was _jacked._ Intimidating, when anyone first met him, but really a big teddy bear. And he was all Suko's, the most loyal guy you'd even meet. Unlike _him...._

"You want a hug too?" Someone approached the doorway, wearing a baseball cap and a sheepish smile. Arius's scowl deepened. He wasn't informed that Chase would be here... fucking bitch. He couldn't help the anger that burned hotly through his body at the turn of events. He looked at Glenn, who opened his eyes and met Arius's gaze. He smiled lightly, also seeming sheepish. Chase cast another glance Arius's way and shrunk back into the apartment. 

Glenn pulled away from Suko, but kept a gentle hold on their hand. "Come on in," he said to Arius, voice surprisingly warm. "Food's getting cold." He stepped into the apartment grudgingly, feeling completely out of place. The apartment did smell nice, as it always did, but especially nice now that there was food. As he walked into the large open room (the place was open plan) he could see a plate of burgers, a few bags of chips, and a pack of soda. Glenn wasn't usually one to eat so unhealthily, but Arius was grateful. At least there was some protein. 

Before he even got to the kitchen island, a melodic voice commented, "The atmosphere is so tense all the sudden." He turned his head and saw Mari lounging on the couch, not even looking at him. She was playing solitaire on the coffee table. She wore a deep violet cardigan, a gray skirt with black leggings underneath, and her favorite Doctor Who shirt. 

Arius turned away from her and proceeded to the counter, brushing past Chase and bumping him with his shoulder. "I fucking wonder why," he said bitterly, making a grab for a handful of chips. Indeed, the atmosphere felt hostile. He supposed it was his own fault, but had too much spite and pride to calm down. 

He was kicked in the calf from behind and Suko snapped, "Stop being such a bitch, Arius. Let go of that shit and lay off for once!" He sneered, moving around to the other side of the island to glare at them. They glared back fiercely until he lowered himself onto a stool and broke eye contact to get a hamburger. Mari muttered something under her breath. She had a small grimace on her face, and Glenn's expression was similar. 

A silence loomed over all of them for a little while. Suko got a paper plate and filled it with food, going to settle on the couch with Glenn. Arius watched them kiss, envious, and Chase watched Arius with mixed emotions. 

The television was turned on to drown out the silence. It helped to ease the tension a bit, even if it was merely background noise. The three by the television began a conversation, leaving Arius and Chase to sulk in their respective corners of the room. It was never a good idea to have them together.

Mari started setting up a game of Poker, ushering both Chase and Arius over. The two of them shared a glance again, hesitating before approaching the sitting area. Arius sat in an armchair, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in a rather assertive manner. On the other hand, Chase slouched on the edge of the same couch that was half occupied by Suko and Glenn. As Mari dealt the cards, Arius fixed a steady glare on the floor. 

Upon second thought, Chase got up to snatch a bag of chips and bring it back to the game. Glenn eyed him. "Please don't make a mess," he chuckled, and Chase flashed him a small smile in return. No matter what, Glenn always seemed to be welcoming and lighthearted; that trait got on Arius's nerves quite often.

They began to play. Arius had a flush---his whole hand was made up of black diamonds---and he felt fairly cocky about it. He saw that Chase's tongue was poking out of his mouth, and hated that he recognized it as a sign of Chase being focused and a little triumphant. Glenn had his eyebrows furrowed, signaling that perhaps he would fold soon. Suko had a good poker face, not giving anything away, and Mari kept looking around at everyone, similarly to Arius. 

As expected, Glenn folded after the bet was doubled twice. He looked in slight alarm at the growing pile of Skittles in the middle of the coffee table (that was their currency) and then scooted over to see Suko's hand, now that he was out. Surprisingly, Suko folded on their next turn. Chase ended up putting in all he had, then was forced to fold. Arius and Mari looked at each other over their hands, being the only ones left.

It was to Arius's massive disappointment that Mari had four of a kind. She whooped upon winning and Suko applauded her with gusto. They started another round, which Chase won with excessive yelling and celebration. He'd always been the loudest one of the group---the most energetic, outwardly.

"It's nice to have... most of the gang back together," Glenn said, and Suko nodded. Arius didn't say much, having not really been part of 'the gang.' They were all a collective, but some were closer than others.

"I did see Damien about two weeks ago, picking up ramen from the shop," Suko admitted. "I tried to invite him to have dinner with Will and I, but he said he was busy with business shit." Arius grunted, making Suko look at him. His disgusted expression was enough to convey his feelings about Damien. They'd known each other quite personally for a time, until Damien found a new toy.

"Is he still with Will?" pondered Chase. Everyone looked to Suko. 

They shrugged. "Dunno. I thought Will had a girlfriend for a while, Cecilia or something. Didn't Damien dump him?" Nobody had the answer to that. Arius was clearly very done with the conversation, tapping away on his phone. 

Chase looked around for a second before asking, "Do you think Damien could help with... finding Abel? He has... connections, doesn't he?" Arius curled his lip in anger, but didn't look up. Glenn looked uncertain. Mari was absently shuffling the cards, trying to stay out of the conversation. Suko was the only one who seemed to agree. 

That subject was dropped, and Mari started a game of Uno between she, Chase, and Glenn. Suko laid on Glenn's lap, texting (supposedly Damien), and Arius was still slumped in the armchair.

Three rounds of Uno later, Arius got up. He couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going home," he told Suko coldly, and headed for the door. Glenn looked at him with a hint of worry, and Chase appeared disappointed when he glanced up from his cards. 

"Sure," said Suko, "but I don't trust you with the car, so you're gonna have to catch a taxi." He shrugged, uncaring, and promptly left. It felt too quiet in the hallway. He rubbed his eyes, wincing at the bruises. It seemed that nobody cared enough to ask what had happened, or perhaps Chase had already told them all. He was more likely to believe the former at this point. Arius forced one foot after the other down the hallway and to the elevator, mind occupied. It was giving him a headache. He just wanted to get high, leave his emotions behind to make way for euphoria.

He flagged down a taxi and got into the back seat. The driver tried to make small talk, but Arius didn't reply. He was looking out of the window, where it was beginning to rain. It reminded him of the night Abel disappeared. 

His fingers itched to roll a joint and smoke. The emotional pain washing over him was almost unbearable. A tear trickled down his cheek and was promptly wiped away by his hand. The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, and Arius fixed his gaze on the window. He tried to focus on the droplets rolling down the glass.

Upon reaching his destination, he shoved a five dollar bill into the guy's hand and left the car in a rush. The rain filled his senses. It had a wonderfully fresh smell and a relaxing pattering beat. It dripped from the ends of his hair and rolled down his skin, as if the sky was crying for him. It soaked into his clothes, staining them with darker patches. He paused in the rain for a good minute or two, squinting skyward. 

Then he went inside, taking the stairs up to their apartment. He fit the key into the lock and shoved the door open, slamming it behind him and throwing the key onto the table. It slid off and hit the tile floor. He didn't bother to pick it up.

He went straight for the bottle of vodka he'd gotten when Suko was at work on Friday. He grabbed a shot glass from the cupboard and poured himself a shot, downing it like a man dying of thirst.

Only then did he sit at the small table, his thoughts beginning to spin. He recognized that he was pushing people away again, isolating himself in his own little bubble of anger and alcohol. That was how it had always been. He had no idea why Suko and Abel had kept him around. He and Abel hardly had a recognizable connection before Abel went missing. It was buried too deep, only to be pulled to the surface in the most dire of times.

He felt hopeless. Part of him knew that they wouldn't get Abel back. The police were getting no leads, and they had nowhere near enough money to pay his ransom. He couldn't even imagine how Abel was being treated. He'd been gone for so long... what if he was seriously injured? He must be so fucking alone and helpless, but Arius couldn't do anything, nobody could do anything. Arius touched his face. The last time he'd tried to do something, he'd been hurt and had gotten nowhere. He stifled this thought by throwing back a second shot of vodka. 

Damien intruded on his thoughts again. That stupid, abusive bastard. He was the school's fuckboy, a goddamn prostitute, a sadistic piece of garbage. Arius had been the same for a while, and they had never gotten along anywhere outside of the bedroom. Scratch that, even in the bedroom they were fighting for control. Being with Damien had been the most exhilarating and active time in his sex life, but he wouldn't trade anything to get it back. 

Another shot, as if it could make him stop thinking. 

Damien didn't have feelings for anyone. He'd told Arius that their relationship was purely sexual, and if Arius thought it could be more, he should leave. So Arius left. He'd been used, just like so many before him. It was fucking ridiculous that Suko was still Damien's friend. He hated the mere idea of seeing Damien again, even more than he loathed seeing Chase. More than he loathed remembering shit like this.

The only reason Damien might be worth a _cent_ was if he could get Abel back. But even with his connections, Arius doubted it. Why the fuck would he even want to help in the first place? He never knew Abel at all, never cared about his existence anyway. That monster didn't care about _anyone._

Arius had his fourth shot of vodka and glanced at his phone. It had been almost an hour. He was slumped in his chair like a vegetable, his thoughts beginning to slow down. He fumbled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket, hoping to get the little buzz that the sticks provided.

Sometime after his seventh shot, someone knocked on the door. He didn't put in the effort of looking at the source of the noise. He was beyond buzzed, as the alcohol had set in, and was beginning to regret drinking so much so quickly. After a few more knocks, the person simply opened the door and walked in. Arius, stupidly, hadn't locked it.

"Dude---are you alright?" asked a familiar voice. Arius looked up and scowled at Chase. 

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" he snapped, voice slurred. The smaller man frowned, eyes sweeping over the table as he took it all in. "Answer me, Brady!"

Chase flinched. "I had to come check on you. I knew you were gonna do this," he answered meekly, approaching Arius. He was careful, acting like Arius was some sort of wild animal. Well---when he was drunk, he might as well be.

He acted impulsively, shooting to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. Everything on it shuddered, and he was very lucky that nothing tipped over. Chase paused in his approach, frozen. Before he could spout any more bullshit, Arius cut in, "Why do you care, Chase? Why can't you just leave me alone? Leave me the fuck alone, you feckin---you _bitch._ " He was so goddamn angry, and wasn't sure why; it was probably the vodka speaking.

Again, Chase recoiled. He looked hurt, but Arius didn't really give a shit. "I just... needed to know that you were alright..." he answered hesitantly. "I worry about you a lot." 

_Bullshit._ "Me? Worry about yourself, you fucking dumbass. One of these days you're gonna fucking shoot yourself after you get too drunk, but here you are, wasting your time talking to me!" he shot back. 

He had gone too far. Chase stepped back, wiping at his eyes with his arm, and glared at the floor. A tear rolled down his cheek, clinging to the edge of his chin before falling onto his shirt. "Shut up," he said bluntly. "Just shut up."

Arius stalked toward him, unsteady on his feet but determined. Chase looked up, anxious. He looked so vulnerable and oddly appealing, bottom lip trembling. Arius wanted to bite it. At the time he didn't realize this was wrong, that everything he was doing was going to hurt both of them. He was acting purely on his urges. 

Speaking of his urges. He grabbed the front of Chase's shirt and pulled him closer, their lips clashing. He wasn't a sloppy kisser, even when drunk, and Chase melted into it. Chase tasted like chips, but nevertheless, Arius kept kissing him, backing him up against the wall with a hand against his chest. He took Chase's hat off, and felt Chase's hands running through his hair, the both of them caught up in the moment.

When they pulled away to breathe, Chase put his hands on Arius's shoulders to stop him. "Are- Are you sure you want to... do this? Y-You're going to regret it---and I know you d-don't... care about me or anything---"

Arius scowled, effectively shutting him up. "Shut the fuck up, I've wanted this for ages," he snapped, making Chase's face flush. When he tried to lean back in, Chase kept him back.

"But---emotionally---you don't... care. And I don't want to fuck and forget I guess, and you'll be pissed if I actually let you do this, I just---please don't do this if---"

Annoyed, Arius grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the wall on either sides of his head. "I don't fucking care right now, Chase," he said. Then he moved closer again, going for his neck and grinding their hips together. Chase tilted his head up, his breathing shaky, and when Arius spared a glance he saw that Chase was crying. But he wasn't stopping Arius by any means; he seemed to want it just as much.

"You're going to break my fucking heart, Ari," Chase whispered, more to himself than anything. Arius ignored him.

He hesitated when he went to pull off Chase's shirt, noticing that his hands were shaking. Chase reached up and swiped a thumb under each of his eyes, collecting tears that he didn't know were falling. "Please... please don't just---don't fucking use me again," Chase pleaded, looking so afraid and vulnerable pressed there between Arius and the wall. 

"I can't promise that," Arius said. His hands lingered at the hem of Chase's shirt.

Chase's eyes were watering. "Ari..." 

"Are we going to fuck or not, Chase?" he asked with exasperation. 

"D-Don't stop."

And he kissed Arius again, despite the fact that both of them were on the verge of crying, despite the fact that they hadn't done this in years, despite the fact that Arius was drunk and would hate him for all of this in the morning. That was just how things went. In such an imperfect world, they couldn't ask for anything else.


	13. this could be beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the court's break resumes and abel tries to explain what happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this on new year's eve waiting for midnight slkdjgs

The break was quite longer than the prosecutor expected it to be, but appreciated that it was. The court was bustling with motion and hushed voices. The jury discussed the case, the judge was assessing the evidence he had been given, and the defendant seemed utterly at ease. He was sat in his designated chair, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other as he watched the room. Watched Donnelly. Very. Closely. 

The thing about courts was that getting involved with them was a commitment to a loss of money and a rather lengthy process. Some cases took years to be resolved, and even then, sometimes they were unresolved. The prosecution, however, was determined to shorten it. The defendant was obviously prepared to draw it out as long as possible. 

All of Donnelly's friends lingered around him, not overwhelming him but remaining as a support system, a safety net. His tears, for the most part, had dried. He was drinking out of a plastic water bottle, chatting with his brother and best friend. The defendant took all of this in with keen interest. 

Eventually, the court was called back into order, everyone taking their seats and the witnesses leaving the room. Except for Donnelly. He took his place back at the stand, swore the truth again, and sat. He was calmer, not even glancing in the direction of the defendant. The Deputy District Attorney (DDA) stood. 

"Abel, did anything happen that night which might indicate to you that something might happen?"

He squinted at the microphone. It was so long ago. It was covered in so many new memories, so foggy. "Yeah," he pressed forward, trying to recall the events. "There was a feeling like something was wrong, all night. Arius told me that too, even though I hadn't mentioned it. And I saw some people in the club, like, I saw Chase and... someone against the wall watching me. I thought it was just some druggie I used to hang out with, but now that I think about it..." He wanted to leave the rest unsaid, but they didn't want to leave any room for interpretation. So he finished, "...I guess it could have been him. Dam---Da... him." 

The attorney nodded. "Did your family have issues with the defendant or his family?" 

Abel hesitated. "A... a little, I guess. My brother..." _The whole truth._ "...they... had an affair for awhile. Turned into a hatred thing. But... I don't think it was about that, I was just someone he knew because of Arius." 

* * *

I USUALLY DONT PUT AUTHORS NOTES IN THE MIDDLE OF CHAPTERS BUT ITS 2020 BITCHES... NOT EXACTLY WHEN I UPLOAD THIS BUT ITS 2020 RIGHT NOW TRUST ME

* * *

"And it was mentioned that he knew your friends?" 

"Yeah, he was friends with Yasuko and William in high school. And there was the thing with Arius. But the trio wasn't super close after high school from what I know... I don't even think I met him properly. I didn't recognize his face. I don't know why he'd go after me, I'm not even...." he trailed off and shrugged. "I'm nobody of significance." 

"Did he mention anything else, perhaps about knowing you?"

"No... I guess not. Nothing I remember. We only got to know each other when... while I was there." He shivered, but it was hardly noticeable. It was unsaid that they got to know each other _too well._

The questions went on, some being rather repetitive. He answered them as well as he could, but it was clear that he was beginning to fall apart on the witness stand again. When the DDA was finished, the judge asked if the defense had any questions. Swiftly, the defendant's attorney stood. He faced Abel, who was clutching the witness stand with white knuckles. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"What is your history with mental health, Donnelly?"

"Um... I-I... was diagnosed with depression when I was... eleven? I went on antidepressants when I was thirteen and have been on them since... well, except for a couple months when I was with... him. He got them somehow, later, but... other than occasional patches, I've taken them consistently for over ten years... uh, guess I've struggled w-with self-harm in the past and still do. But I'd never... do what he did. I _couldn't_ do what he did to me, physically," he concluded, sweat beading on his forehead. He tried hard to keep looking at the judge and his friends, but he always ended up training his gaze on the microphone and his own hands.

"How do you suspect that the defendant allegedly retrieved your antidepressants? The pharmacy has no reported theft of your prescriptions, and they were never picked up in an ordinary fashion. Would you say that deprivation of your medicine could have driven you to extensive self-harm?"

"N-No, sir. I don't know how he got them." 

"Have you ever experienced delusions, or have you ever been told that you are delusional?"

"I've... been told, a few times, m-mostly as an insult. But I'm _not,_ that's- that's the thing. I can't make this up."

"How did you feel about the defendant before the alleged kidnapping?"

He blinked, stunned for a moment. It felt like so long ago. "Um, I didn't know much about him. I know Arius liked him a lot and hated him a lot at the same time. But he didn't talk about Dami- he didn't talk about Fai unless he was drunk. I guess I didn't really care. As far as I knew, Fai was just another arrogant popular kid with privileges in high school. Like, Suko was still friends with him at the time, but didn't talk about him a lot. So I didn't have much of an opinion, just a faint dislike because of what I'd heard about him." 

The defendant looked at him curiously, almost bemused. He _knew_ Abel was lying. Lying in court, nonetheless.

"Thank you, I have no further questions." The defender sat, and Abel let out a sigh of relief.

"Does the prosecution have any additional questions?" He tensed again.

"Yes, Your Honor," said the attorney representing him, and she stood before addressing Abel directly. "What encounters, if any, did you have with the defendant before the kidnapping?"

He let out a shuddering breath as he tried to recollect every memory he'd blocked out. "We glanced at each other sometimes when Arius brought him h-home but didn't say much. Fai would always pull Arius if he... on the rare occasion, tried to help me if I was... doing something. He didn't care," he said, closing his eyes momentarily in humiliation when his voice cracked at the end. 

He was excused from the witness stand and hurried back to his seat, about to break down in tears from the stress. The defendant watched him the entire way, though maintained an air of indifference. 

And the next witness was called to the stand.


	14. alien boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arius wakes up with a lot of regrets and makes a lot of mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reading kaffir boy is scarring why is my teacher making us read this
> 
> also we've reached the extent of my pre-written chapters you now have to suffer with my incredibly slow writing pace *finger guns*

Arius was first aware of his headache. It was dizzying, making him feel sick, choking his thoughts. It was an all too familiar feeling; he was horribly hungover. 

His first thought was: _how much did I drink?_ His second was: _Yasuko's going to kill me._ And his third: _what did I do._ It wasn't a question. He'd done something, because he could hear someone's breathing. He was pretty sure that he knew.

He could feel his legs tangled in sheets, and a slight chill over his body. He realized that was because he was naked, and he pursed his lips, eyes still shut. He could feel anger building in him again. He didn't want to open his eyes to see what he'd done, because he almost knew already, just by the scent and the feel. 

Someone's (he hoped it wasn't who he thought it was) face was buried in the crook of his neck, and an arm was draped over his stomach. Unkempt stubble brushed against his skin---it was exactly who he thought it was. He felt a surge of regret, guilt, and anger, trying to take a deep breath to calm himself but failing. He knew that he'd fucked up bad.

Finally he worked up the courage to open his eyes. It was early in the morning, he assumed, because of the way the sunlight was barely peeking through his blinds. He was exhausted, meaning he must have not slept much. 

He turned his head to the side, trying to stifle the urge he had to hit the man beside him. He wasn't willing to sink to that level. For a solid minute he didn't move, just observed Chase, anger simmering alongside other emotions. Chase looked so peaceful there, half covered in the sheets and clinging to Arius loosely. His mouth was barely open, his lips pink. His cheeks were blotchy and faintly stained with tears. He was so vulnerable, so miserable... he'd probably cried himself to sleep. But Arius didn't want to care.

The problem was, he _did_ care. He traced Chase's warm skin with a fingernail, up his slightly chubby bicep, up his hickey-covered neck. Chase had tousled chestnut curls that fell over his eyes and freckles that spotted his skin, freckles that Arius had once loved to kiss. He dropped his hand and sighed.

Unfortunately awoken by the small action, Chase mumbled something incoherent, startling Arius. He shifted, trying to blindly grab Arius's arm, but Arius yanked his arm away and pushed him back as he sat up abruptly. Chase's eyelashes fluttered and he furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly confused at his environment. When his eyes opened, a captivating blue, Arius refused to make eye contact. He desperately hoped that Chase didn't know what Arius was doing only seconds before.

Chase cursed, for a moment looking genuinely afraid of Arius and his now boiling anger. "I-I---give me a chance to explain, please---I didn't---I said you'd regret it," he said timidly, voice still rough. He pulled away, covering himself with the sheets. His face was red, and his eyes were already watering. _What a weak little bitch,_ Arius found himself thinking. 

"Get the fuck away from me," he snapped, getting out of bed to retrieve his clothes. Chase flinched, lowering his eyes and clutching the sheets to his chest. For a second Arius felt bad, but he shoved that emotion away.

"It's not my---"

"Shut up."

"Arius, listen to me---"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He put on his jeans, still refusing to look at Chase. Said man cringed away from him and slowly got out of bed to dress as well. Arius continued to rant as he pulled on a shirt, "What the _fuck_ made you think it was a remotely good fucking idea to---to fuck? What's your fucking problem? Why won't you fucking leave me alone?"

Chase remained silent. That only further infuriated Arius, despite the fact that he'd been the one to tell Chase to shut up. His mind was a mess, his values scrambled, his thoughts a whirlwind, his emotions confused. He was scared, but wouldn't admit it to himself. He just wanted to be angry.

After they'd both hurriedly dressed, not looking at each other, Arius grabbed his arm tightly and dragged him toward the bedroom door. "Get the fuck out of here," he hissed. A tear escaped Chase's eye and meandered down his face, clinging to his jaw before falling. He didn't say anything as Arius shoved him out of the bedroom roughly, toward the front door. 

But there was Suko, standing in the way with their arms crossed. They looked furious, but they were containing it. "Arius," they said. He looked at them with a sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" they continued, raising their voice. "You got _hammered_ last night, have you even stopped to consider that it might be completely your fault?" 

He narrowed his eyes. "Fuck off, Yasuko. This whore took advantage of me," he spat. Chase shook his head rapidly, and Suko looked at him. They nodded at him, providing some small reassurance. 

"Took advantage of you my ass. Chase would sooner grow wings than take advantage of anyone." Chase was looking down at his feet as they defended him. He wiped at his eyes, trying to breathe steadily.

"Please---please just listen to me, for once," Chase said quietly, looking up at Arius with watery---yet fierce---eyes. " _You_ came onto _me_ , I just came here to see if you were okay, a-and you... kissed me, I guess, and I asked if you actually wanted to---because... because I know you hate me, and I said you'd regret it, but you said you'd wanted it for ages or something. You can't fucking blame all of this on me!" 

Suko rose their eyebrows expectantly at Arius, who shut his mouth, having no good retort other than to blatantly deny it. He didn't know what happened last night, it was too fuzzy, but Chase had never been a liar. 

"Exactly. So leave him the hell alone," Suko said coldly, directing this at Arius. 

Gaining strength from his silence, Chase rose his voice, looking Arius dead in the eye. "You... you fucking used me. You fucked me and now you're being a bitch about it! It's not _fair!_ "

"Life isn't fucking fair, Brady," Arius growled. 

Chase threw his hands up in frustration. They fell back limply at his sides. "I don't understand you! I don't know what you want! I wish it could be like it used to---what even happened to you that made you so insufferable?" he shot back, voice nearly at a yell.

Arius shoved him, his temper getting the best of him. "Maybe it would be if you hadn't fucking cheated on me, you fucking slut!" he shouted. Chase flinched. Suko then stepped in and grabbed Arius by the wrist, pulling him away.

"I swear to god, Arius, I'm going to throw you out of the damn window!" 

The argument only proceeded to escalate. Everyone was angry and Chase was on the verge of a breakdown. It turned into a screaming match in which nobody was winning. Arius was partially in disbelief that he'd started it all, that he'd gotten drunk enough to have sex with an ex that he 'hated.' And now that he stood over Chase, who was crying and yelling at him, he felt guilt. But Arius Donnelly was never one to apologize.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, ARIUS!" Chase ended up screaming, punching Arius in the jaw---he'd panicked. There was immediate regret in his expression as Arius flinched, raising a hand to the future bruise as his eyes burned with fury. He looked like he was about to punch Chase back, but harder. He had a mean punch, as he'd been in plenty of fights. 

Suko got between them, shoving Arius back. "Don't you fucking dare," they snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest. Despite their short and stout frame, they were in a way intimidating. Arius tried to get past them, to get back at Chase, but before he could reach Chase they held him back with one hand on his shirt and the other gripping just below his elbow. 

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HOLD ONTO IT, CHASE?" he yelled, the volume of his voice making Suko wince. He pulled against their grip, and they struggled to keep him back. "CAN'T YOU JUST ACCEPT THAT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING WE WERE---THAT ALL OF THAT... IS GONE... BECAUSE OF YOU? AND WE CAN'T FUCKING GET IT BACK!" His throat hurt with its extensive use. Tears streamed down Chase's cheeks; he looked defeated.

"I want it back," he admitted, voice a little quieter than Arius's. "I miss you so much---but you---you're fucking awful."

That hurt. But Arius, with his fat mouth, didn't address the mutual feelings he had. Instead he retaliated with, "Maybe it fucking reflects on you. Get _out_. I bet that whore Stephanie is more than willing to try anal with you if you don't want those fucking freaks. Or maybe not, but you'll just rape her anyway, because it's all about _you._ " It was the absolute wrong thing to say, in any context, and he didn't know why he did. 

At that, Suko slapped him, dead on. It stung a lot. They slapped him again right after, snapping his head to the side. Chase didn't seem able to breathe. He sunk against the wall, looking... broken.

Arius finally registered that he'd gone _way_ too far.

But did he stop? No. He beat the dead horse until there was nothing left to salvage. "It's not my fault he's such a weak, pathetic bitch," he snapped at Suko, shoving past them. "Tell the whore that I'm not interested in getting involved with his offspring or whatever sick drug-induced fantasies---"

Suko cut him off with one of the angriest tones he'd ever heard from them (the other times were when they were defending Abel, usually). "SHUT THE FUCK UP ARIUS! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? GET THE FUCK OUT! DON'T FUCKING COME BACK! ABEL WOULDN'T FUCKING WANT YOU HERE ANYWAY!" they screamed. He turned around, shocked. Their face was red, and they were absolutely _seething._ Chase had his head in his hands, and he was crying. Arius's heart physically hurt, and he wanted to reach out, to say something that would fix this, but he couldn't. Nothing could fix it. He couldn't even form the words if he wanted to. His throat felt tight, and he was a little lightheaded. "GET OUT!" Suko screamed again, pointing at the door.

So he backed toward the door and then ran as he opened it, slamming it behind him. He felt tears pricking at his eyes as he tore down the stairs, stumbling over every few steps. His heart thudded in his head, making his headache worse, and he felt as if he were about to vomit. Everything spun. He couldn't believe what he'd said. What Suko had said.

Finally he reached the bottom of the steps, and slumped against the wall of the stairwell, hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs. He usually wasn't one to cry, but this hurt so bad, cutting him down to his core. He lurched forward at the force of a desperate sob that escaped him. His crying deprived him of breath, made his head hurt so bad, and the tears made everything blurry. He hadn't cried that hard in a long time, and the worst part was, it echoed through the entire stairwell. 

He was exhausted within five minutes of his ridiculous breakdown. Humiliated, he wiped his eyes and tried to calm down. He pressed his palms to his closed eyelids and breathed in, out, in. Slowly. Whatever it was Abel did when he was having a panic attack. It was working, kind of, and he was reduced to sniffling and wiping his still watery eyes after a little bit. And just as he felt calm enough to exit the stairwell, the door opened to two familiar people.

One wore a long black coat, dressed very formally, his longish dark hair combed to fall nearly over one eye, his pale hands in his pockets. The other seemed tiny and insignificant compared to his towering stature, wearing a worn pair of overalls and an oversized shirt with some sort of Japanese writing on it. Both of them looked at Arius with recognition.

"Well, well," chuckled the taller one. "I expected to see you anyhow, but not in this... state." His lip curled in distaste. Arius sneered in return, hatred boiling in his veins so strongly that he thought he'd burst.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Damien?" he hissed, not coming off as intimidating as he'd like due to the fact he was still sitting against the wall and his eyes were red. Maybe he could pass it off as an effect of drugs. 

"Yasuko called me to help find the brother you were too incompetent to keep safe," Damien replied, his expression not exactly changing. The man beside him, whom Arius recognized as Damien's ex(?), Will, started up the steps and looked back at Damien expectantly. Damien didn't address him. "Kind of pathetic, is it not? What happened to being protective?"

Arius sprung to his feet, clenching his fists. He was dizzy from the sudden movement, but didn't let it show. "Shut the fuck up, you don't have _any_ of the story. Get the fuck away from here before I beat the shit out of your big head," he threatened---it wasn't an empty threat, and both of them knew it.

"Damien. Let's go. We're not here to argue---can't you see he's going through some shit?" Will spoke up, eyes narrowed. Then Damien looked at him, and something in his expression made Will wince. Arius looked between them, opening his mouth to say something before he really knew what he should say. So it tumbled out.

"You---You didn't fucking abuse him, did you?" he accused Damien, incredulous. Will, despite that fact that Arius didn't like him, was undoubtedly too sweet to hurt. Damien rose his eyebrows, his retort silent.

Will just shook his head, stepping down from the stairs. "Nah, I just... I don't know. He's a scary bastard anyway. Let's just go, Dames, Suko's waiting," he insisted, pulling at Damien's arm. 

"Let go of me," Damien demanded harshly, and Will did, very promptly. Damien looked back at Arius. "It is no wonder why Abel hated you. Hell, perhaps you were the monster that did away with him. It is not like you cared about him all that much. You were always a little dimmer than he." His tone was mocking, and Arius _did not_ appreciate that.

He stepped forward as if to punch Damien, but Damien only lifted his chin slightly, as if inviting him to try. That pretentious bastard, he knew Arius would do it, and even still he was cocky. It had always been so, for as long as anyone alive had known him. Such a... a fucking... a _whore,_ that's what he was, selling his stupidly beautiful body for all the money he could possibly want. He was so damn entitled. 

It was that train of exceedingly angry thoughts that led him to swinging his fist toward Damien's throat. He knew he'd fucked up as soon as Damien smiled, that quick little smile of satisfaction; he'd gotten what he wanted. That was what Arius registered in the split second before Damien's hand closed around his fist and he used Arius's momentum against him, to whirl him around and slam him against the wall, arm pinned painfully behind his back. His other arm was pinned between him and the wall. Will made a noise of alarm, trying to tell Damien to stop, but trailed off, perhaps in fear.

Arius could feel Damien's breath on the back of his neck. He struggled, trying to kick out behind him, but Damien's stance allowed him to land no hits. They'd been in this position many times. "Still just as impulsive as I remember," Damien murmured, and Arius could _hear_ the pleasure in his voice (what a sadistic cunt). "Horizontal for show, vertical for results, Arius." Now _that_ , considering Abel's past, was way too far. Arius almost screamed at him, his finally dry eyes watering again, but Will beat him to it.

"STOP! JUST STOP! SHUT UP FOR ONCE--- _please_ ," he begged, voice echoing through the stairwell. "Stop fighting for once, both of you!" Finally Damien let him go and moved back. Arius immediately swung around to try to punch him, but Damien had expected it and stepped out of the way, glaring at him dangerously. 

Will pulled on Damien's arm again. "Go," he said sternly. His usually soft and warm eyes were hard. 

"Shut up, Will," Damien growled, but moved past him to start up the stairs.

The shorter man hurried up to Arius, wringing his hands. "I'm so sorry, Ari, he---yeah, I don't have an excuse for him, I'm really sorry. Don't take any of what he said personally. Are you alright?" he apologized desperately on Damien's behalf (Arius had never, ever seen Damien apologize genuinely). 

"Whatever," Arius grunted, crossing his arms and looking away. He was barely holding back tears. Everything Damien had said was ringing in his ears still; the bastard had an awful way with words, a manner of speaking that made all of his words stick in the minds of his victims. All of his insults and empty promises and threats. His voice was so strong, so present, and Arius hated it with all of his being. 

"Can I get you coffee, anything? That was totally uncalled for, and I know you've got to be going through a lot right now... please let me help you," Will tried again.

Arius shook his head. "Just go away. Catch up with your boy toy."

"Wha-What, no! We broke up years ago, but---that doesn't matter. Are you sure you're okay?" 

"I..." he hesitated. "I appreciate the effort, but fuck off." 

Will's shoulders slumped. He nodded, lifting his arm like he wanted to put it on Arius's shoulder but then dropping it upon changing his mind. Then he tried to offer a smile, which wasn't returned, and at that point he gave up and turned away, heading for the stairs where Damien was waiting with crossed arms. Damien leaned down to mutter something to him that Arius didn't hear. 

Arius never wanted to see either of them again. Scratch that, he didn't want to see _any_ of them again. Not Suko, not Chase, none of them. He stormed out of the stairwell, tears streaking down his face again. It had been an awful morning for him. As he left the building, he checked his phone; it was only seven. He had no new texts. He rolled his shoulders, working out the bit of pain left in his arm from Damien. He didn't know where to move next. He wiped at his eyes with his good arm, walking aimlessly, his head down. His sneakers scuffed against the sidewalk, loud in his ears. Everything was loud. He wished he had earbuds to drown it out. 

With the little cash he still had in his pockets, Arius bought a bus ticket. He sat in the back and hung his head, drifting in and out of a light slumber. He let the bus take him wherever it was going. He didn't care where it went anymore. He just wanted out of town, somewhere new... but he didn't have that much hope. He knew his future wasn't bright. It never had been, and he'd just snuffed out any chance he had at a relationship. Again.

He didn't know where he would go or what he would do, but for the moment, he let himself cry in the back of a cheap bus as it bounced along an unknown road full of potholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp read 350 pages in 3 hours and maybe thats not impressive to you but my ass had grown roots to that chair let me tell you


	15. i still feel alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel can't take it anymore, and neither can damien apparently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't figured it out yet, warning for graphic violence. and warning for slight sexual assault? nothing happens, just damien being a creep per usual

As of the past three days, Abel had been trying to rebuild his strength. He paced whenever he could, walking around the room, touching and inspecting everything in his reach. He'd been trusted a little more, so the chains were loose enough that he could access most of the room. He still couldn't reach the door nor the window. He could just barely use the bathroom without straining the chains too much, but he was relieved to be able to. He still didn't bathe himself, but hadn't tried avoiding the drugs since that... incident. He was trying to come to terms with the fact that his privacy was already beyond violated and there was nothing he could do about it.

The room, he'd found, was just as bland as it looked. The drawers had clothes of varying sizes; they were all sorted by color and size, folded with such a tedious neatness that Abel was tempted to mess it up just to spite Damien. But then he remembered what Damien was capable of, and he decided against it with a slight shudder. Altogether, there was nothing of interest in the room. It was kind of infuriating. He had never been more bored in his life.

Damien only visited to give him food and to watch him. It was unnerving. Since what was probably the 21st, sometimes he would come in and sit on a chair in the corner that Abel couldn't reach. And he'd watch. That was it. They had unspoken staring contests, which Damien was quite good at, but whenever his eyes started watering he'd blink. That was the only entertainment Abel had. Otherwise, whenever that man was in the room, he felt so uncomfortable. He'd just stare and pick at the blanket until Damien got bored and left. 

This time wasn't much different. He arrived slightly before lunch time, not speaking a word at first and simply sitting. Abel knew he was in for torment, and made it clear by the roll of his eyes that he did not want Damien in the room. Damien's expression didn't change. He never took his gaze off of Abel. There wasn't an easily decipherable emotion in his eyes, merely darkness. That made it quite a bit more unnerving. 

"What do you want?" Abel mumbled, not really willing to put up with his shit at the moment.

Without missing a beat, the other replied, "It is more about what your friends want, Abel." It still felt so wrong to hear his own name from Damien's lips. It made him recoil. When he was over the brief shock, he registered what Damien said. 

"I mean... they want me back, right? What do you fucking mean?" he asked bluntly. 

"Of course. And they are enlisting my help. They think that perhaps I can find you." At that, Damien laughed. It was short and bitter, definitely an unfriendly laugh. 

Abel sank, mouthing something along the lines of _are you fucking kidding me._ Damien watched him with a smirk. He knew exactly how frustrating the news was, how much Abel hated that his friends were trusting his captor. It felt so obvious, but they fell for it, and it made him want to scream and punch something. Particularly Damien's face.

"Rest assured, love," Damien began, leaning back and watching Abel for his reaction, "I will unravel every lead they have. I will tear them apart, direct them down all the wrong paths, and they will _never_ question my word. Do you understand that? They will _never_ find you unless I want them to."

Tears threatened to spill from Abel's eyes. His mouth was slightly open in a mixture of shock, anger, and despair. He had so much negative emotion that he felt as if he were about to explode. Damien must have known that, but he kept pushing all the wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it) buttons. "This morning I had tea with Yasuko in their apartment. Your dear brother had left in tears, only making time for a brief conversation with him---a one night stand gone wrong, it seems. His poor toy stayed with us, debating your location. _Where are you?_ we all wondered. A curious question, that. It was---" 

"SHUT. THE FUCK UP!" Abel yelled, standing up too quickly. His head spun. "SHUT UP! NOBODY WANTS TO PLAY YOUR FUCKING GAME!" 

Bad move. He knew it immediately, as Damien sat up straighter and tilted his head, his smirk gone. He was clearly unimpressed with Abel's behavior. "Who said anything about a game? Perhaps I am being too lenient. Are my intentions unclear?" he drawled, his tone totally different from what it was a few seconds ago. Abel winced, unsure of what to do. He had already overstepped, but maybe he could be let off the hook if...

...but he remembered what Damien had said: _I will tear them apart._ He didn't deserve Abel's mercy. He didn't deserve anything. He was a sick, vile creature, and Abel had never hated someone more in his life.

"NO! They're not! And you're _sick_! You're fucked up! GET IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING SKULL, YOU'RE A PSYCHOPATH! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He was only digging himself deeper into a hole from which he could not climb back up. Damien sneered, his short fuse obviously burning. He stood, but did not take a step forward.

"Do you _ever_ learn? I do not understand what gives you courage to speak to me like this. You are at a great disadvantage, and frankly, I would take pleasure in making that clear to you. Is that what you want?" 

Nope. Abel crossed his arms, guarded, his heart pounding. He looked away from Damien. It was disgusting how attractive he was, even when he was pissed off. Fuck, Abel wanted to punch him so bad. 

Satisfied with the lack of a verbal response, Damien said simply, "You will not eat until Sunday. Eventually you must recognize the power I have over your survival." Then he left without another word, locking the door behind him. 

Abel fell backward, his head hitting the pillow. He was shaking with anger. It was white-hot, blinding anger, and he wanted to break something. He slammed his fist down on the mattress before rolling over and pulling his legs to his chest, hands clawing at his hair. He couldn't stay still. He kicked at the blanket, his fingers tearing from his hair to wrap around the chains and tug. His wrists hurt, his ankles hurt, and so did his stomach. It was bruised---healing, but bruised. There was a pointed pain in both of his temples to top it all off. All of this tension was funneled into energy he couldn't release. 

He managed to lie still for quite a while. He couldn't sleep, his eyes wouldn't remain closed, and the anger in his veins was still simmering. It was ticking. He knew that he would be hurt if he dared express it.

His thoughts wandered back to what Damien had said. Suko _trusted_ Damien. Who in their right mind would do that? He hated it, how he was being kept right under his friends' noses. It was unfair. Everything was so goddamn unfair. And what about Arius? He was _crying?_ He never cried. Around Abel at least, he was an apathetic bitch. They'd fought often when they were younger, but Abel didn't remember the last time he'd seen Arius cry. And then---a failed one night stand? How did that even happen? He had so many questions, but he felt that he would get no answers. 

Conclusion: he felt _awful._ He could waste away all he wanted here, but he was being fed (well... he _had been_ ) and bathed and for the most part, taken care of. He tried putting himself in the shoes of his brother, his friend, all of them. It was a horrible feeling. They must be going through hell---well, that just sounded pretentious. But from what Damien had told him, things were falling apart back at home. 

Who said he could trust Damien's word, anyway? Obviously his mentions of Medford were lies, relying on Abel's observation abilities. Still, he wanted to believe Damien. That was his only source of information and contact with the world. 

Again it cycled back to his hatred of his captor. He had absolutely no right to keep _anyone_ like this, chained up and vulnerable to whatever he wanted to inflict on them. What kind of fucking upbringing do you need to have to become someone like Damien? What the hell led someone to... what was this, human trafficking? It made him sick to think about. He didn't want whatever was to come. If Damien's client decided to... _buy_ him, Abel felt that his life would be over. He desperately hoped that they would find him before that happened. Glenn was intuitive, surely he'd realize something was up with Damien if they met. And... Suko's other friend, Abel had rarely seen her since high school ended, but he remembered that she had a good gut instinct too. 

Stupid. Stupid fucking Damien. Abel rolled over restlessly again, and grew even more irritated at the sound of the chains clinking. He'd been there for too long, he knew that. And he wanted out. He didn't want to see Damien, ever. He felt the same urge to scream that he did when he first awoke. 

Unwilling to let his energy and anger simply sit and boil, Abel stumbled to his feet. It was significantly darker outside now, just after sunset. The sky was still streaked with purple. It would be beautiful if he took the time to appreciate it. Instead he locked his gaze on the nearest destructible item: the lamp. 

He was too angry to consider the consequences of his actions. He grabbed the slimmest part of the lamp and lifted it up, tugging aggressively so it came unplugged, sparking at the outlet. Then he threw it. The delicate lamp hit the wall by the window, and Abel cursed himself for not aiming at the window in the first place. It was too late for that. Its shade fell from the body and the bulb had shattered into lots of little pieces. It made less noise than he expected it to, but it was definitely a noticeable noise. He then turned his attention to the dresser and lunged for it, throwing open its drawers and haphazardly pulling out the clothes. He threw them, tears streaming down his cheeks, and even tried to rip a shirt. The material was too tough for his scrawny arms (definitely wasn't as easy as it looked). That made him feel worse. 

As he still hadn't been stopped, Abel pulled the drawer out of the dresser entirely and threw it. It didn't get far. He turned to the bed and ripped off the blanket and the sheets. He threw the pillows. He tripped over the chains still attached to his wrists and ankles, such a fucking tangled mess, useless....

Someone was screaming and crying, and it took longer than it should have to realize that it was him. He wasn't self conscious about it, however. He just wanted to break something. He wanted to cave in Damien's goddamn face, he wanted to shatter the window, he wanted to punch holes in the wall. He ran for the window but was held fast by the chains, not even able to reach the sill with his fingertips. He turned and pulled at the chains, very verbally expressing his frustration through shouts and curses and choked sobs. 

By the time the door opened he was running himself into the wall over and over, bashing his wrists and shoulder against it as if it would do anything to help. His vision was too blurry to see what was coming. He didn't even hear the door open over the sound of his own wails.

Abel was roughly thrown to the ground, the back of his head hitting the floorboards in a merciless motion. He struggled to get back up, unable to see much at all, but was shoved back down and punched repeatedly in the face.

He was being straddled so he couldn't squirm away, a hand wrapped around and pushing down on his throat while the other inflicted the real damage. He cried out hoarsely in pain, feeling blood dripping from his nose and on his tongue from what was probably a now missing tooth. His eye hurt and he knew it would be blackened. He lifted his arms in a weak attempt at deflecting the blows, but it was no use. He couldn't breathe, and he didn't know if it was because he was panicking or if it was because of the hand around his neck. He just kept struggling. Until he couldn't.

A well-placed punch hit him in the nose just right, and his head slammed against the floor, and he was out.

He came to consciousness only a minute later. He was no longer being actively hurt, but Damien was still on top of him, regaining his breath. Abel could hardly focus on him. His head spun and his face hurt badly. It was hard to breathe, and he realized it was because Damien's hand was _still_ around his neck, applying enough pressure so that he could just barely breathe. It put him in a _very_ vulnerable position.

They remained in silence while both recovered from the events. Abel had gotten beat up before, quite often in high school actually, so he was somewhat used to it. But he'd rarely been knocked out. 

"Abel," Damien said, and Abel's eyes snapped open again. He still wasn't used to his name coming from those lips, in that voice, with that tone or _any_ tone. "I take it upon myself to break and rebuild my valuables before I sell them. You curl your lip at me now, but you do not want to find out what I do to those who remain disobedient." 

The threat was the complete opposite of empty. Damien seemed to always enforce his rules and promises, which made him all the more terrifying, especially when he said things like that. But Abel still wasn't quite willing to give up. He tried to spit blood in his captor's face, but failed and ended up with blood and saliva on his own chin. Damien slapped him, and he whimpered in response. He was certain that his nose was broken.

"I can and will ruin you. Do you understand?" Damien said lowly, applying more pressure to Abel's throat to enunciate his point. Abel tried to grab at his wrist and pry his hand away, desperate for breath. The bastard didn't allow it; he snatched Abel's wrist and slammed it down to the floor above his head. A minor pain shot through his hand, and he yelped, attempting to pull away. Damien's grip was like iron, as strong as the chains that already bound him.

"Answer me," he demanded, lightening his grip just slightly so he could actually gasp in a breath. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows drawn together, eyes narrowed and burning with hatred. It would be really fucking stupid to try anything else when he was this pissed.

"Yes," Abel croaked. "I-I understand." 

"Very good." Damien finally let go, and Abel desperately sucked in air between coughs. At last Damien got up, brushing himself off and inspecting his hands, probably for blood or damage.

Before he knew it he was being pulled to his feet. He was forced to stumble toward the bathroom with useless protests. He briefly took in the carnage he had caused. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the lamp was, well, ruined, the bed was a wreck, and the drawer was in the middle of the room. He got a feeling of satisfaction, knowing how much the mess bothered Damien, but it didn't last very long. He tried to focus on whatever the fuck Damien was about to do.

The lights in the bathroom were flipped on, blinding Abel. A drawer opened and shut. Abel blinked and squinted, adjusting to the brightness, and found himself looking into the mirror. Oh god, he was a mess. His nose was crooked and bleeding, and his left eye was still squinted. He wasn't in a lot of pain, just dizzy and weak. His adrenaline had left him long ago. His face would be an ugly mess once things started to bruise. 

His hand was grabbed, turning his attention to it. Damien pinned his fingers to the bathroom counter with a force that made Abel wince. It wasn't all that bad until he realized _why_ he was being restrained. In his torturer's other hand was a razor blade, apparently taken straight from the razor, which lay on the counter. 

"W-Wait---what are you---" He was panicking as the blade neared his unprotected palm. He struggled and tried to pull away, but Damien put the force of his body weight on the arm keeping his hand down. "Damien don't---"

"Did you think you were done?" Damien replied, seeming slightly amused and pleased that Abel had used his name. Still, Abel could tell that he was angry. And that was really bad. Obviously. Damien was focused, lining up the blade for whatever he was going to do. "Clearly I have not been harsh enough, if you continue to act so impetuously," he continued, glancing up to watch Abel's terrified expression. The feeling of being helpless was overwhelming. It wasn't like Abel hadn't taken a blade to his own skin before, but this was different. He was a year clean, and this was someone else that was going to hurt him. He had no control over how deep Damien cut. Hell, it could get infected and....

His train of thought came to a halt when a cold pain shot through his hand. He focused his eyes and whimpered at the sight of blood oozing out of a thin, clean cut across his palm. It stretched from the pad beneath his index finger to the pad of his thumb. He felt a little queasy looking at it, feeling the throbbing ache it brought. He tried to pull his hand away but it was kept still. Damien wasn't done yet.

"Keep still," he murmured, "or I will cut deeper." 

He lined up the blade again. "For earlier." Another cut of the same length, maybe a centimeter apart from the first. "And the bathroom incident." A third one. "Lashing out." A fourth. "Finally, screaming." He cut the fifth one across the others, from the top of the fourth down to the bottom of the first in a straight line. The overlap made Abel yell out, his body struggling uncontrollably. He squeezed his eyes shut so he didn't have to see. It stung badly. Not as bad as when he'd done it himself, as he'd gone deeper, but his palm was sensitive and the cuts were so long. 

"Stop, stop, stop," he was blubbering without thinking. "I won't d-do it again!" The pressure on his fingers was relieved and he pulled his hand up from the counter to cradle it, getting blood on his shirt. Breathing was getting difficult. He tried grounding himself, focusing instead on how his hair was tickling his face. That led him to being sensitive to the tears on his cheeks, and then back to the pain. 

If Damien had responded to his pleading, Abel hadn't heard it. His captor grabbed his wrist and brought his hand under the faucet, drenching it with cold water. It wasn't a relieving feeling. He watched the pink water wash down the drain, lightheaded, fidgeting with his feet as if it would numb the pain.

He stood there, helpless with his knees wobbling as Damien disinfected the cuts and wrapped his hand with bandages. Only then was he released, and again he held his hand to his chest.

Damien silently washed the blade and put everything away. Abel took a few steps back into the bedroom, wary, and his movement made Damien look at him as he was washing the blood from his hands. It was an awful sight. He looked to have cooled down a bit, but his gaze was still stern and his body language made Abel anxious. 

"If you do not have the room thoroughly cleaned by tomorrow evening, you will receive another," he warned, drying his hands and turning off the light before taking his time emerging from the now dark bathroom. "Is this what you want, Donnelly? How far must I go?" He approached with a sort of prowl that made Abel's heart beat faster. He backed away, but Damien didn't pause. Whatever was happening, it wasn't good.

He was pushed backward against the wall, and Damien entwined their fingers, holding his hands gently. Abel was too afraid to pull away. The bastard was too close to him in proximity, and the scent of mint was overpowering. If Damien leaned any closer, their noses might touch. "Or is physical pain not enough to break you?" he whispered, squeezing Abel's hand to enunciate his point. Abel winced and became suddenly aware that their bodies were pressed together, which made his heart threaten to burst from his chest. He was uncomfortable as all hell, but wasn't moving. He was frozen, staring up at Damien, petrified beneath his dark, piercing gaze.

 _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit,_ was all he could think as Damien leaned closer, tilting his head. All of the blood remaining in Abel's body was rushing to his face, and he wouldn't admit to himself that some went to his groin. He hated himself so much. This was the guy who'd beat the shit out of him and then cut up his hand, but his body disagreed with whatever morals Abel had. It was disgusting. He swore at any moment his captor was going to kiss him.

It never happened. Damien looked directly into his eyes and then smirked, leaning back and finally allowing Abel to breathe. "G-Get---get the fuck off me," Abel stammered as Damien's eyes trailed down his body. At this, Damien looked back up and his smirk grew into a smug smile. 

"Oh, no, if anything _you_ were the one getting off, darling."

He stepped away, letting go of his hands, and Abel slid down the wall to put his head in his hands and pull his knees up to his chest. He'd---Damien had barely touched him, and---ugh. Damien chuckled again, seemingly in much better control of himself now, and after a few moments the door shut and locked. 

Abel's eyes were dry, but he still felt like crying. He couldn't process what had just happened. He felt so faint and tired at that point that he didn't want to think about it. He lied down on his side, curling up and squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to take the coldest shower of his life, but first of all he couldn't, second of all he really did not want to be naked of his own volition, and third of all he didn't feel like getting up. 

So he drifted in and out of sleep, clutching his bandaged hand to his chest and doing his very best to sink into the floor. Luckily, he was allowed some semblance of peace for the rest of the night. 


	16. break me down and build me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the case continues, and arius provides his side of the story

Arius Donnelly took his place at the stand. He looked uncomfortable, but angry above all. He quickly engaged in a heated staring contest with the defendant. Arius lost, blinking before his eyes could start watering. His opponent smiled. It was a silent exchange, brief and unnoticed by most, but it felt like a fistfight.

He was sworn in. The DDA stood again, addressing the witness. "What was your perspective of the first three weeks?" 

He was prepared for the question. "I went out drinking again, Abel came to get me, and he left to the store... that was the last time I saw him in person for the next... how long was it? A year? We started to get the police involved, basically what Abel said. We got a phone call from him after two weeks, and he told us he was in Medford. My... my ex, at the time, and I... we set out for there, but stopped at Red Bluff like... Damien said. There was a guy there who basically beat the... beat us up and gave us no further information. We proceeded anyway... we searched Medford for ages. We told the police, but they never got any leads. Turns out they weren't in Medford." His voice got more and more bitter as he went on.

"And is it true that the defendant came to your apartment during Abel's captivity?" 

"Yep," he said, anger evident in the way he spat out the word. "Ch---Mr. Brady and I, well... I'd gotten really drunk the previous night, and stuff happened, so we were arguing. They kicked me out and on my way I ran into Damien and his ex, Barns." He gestured to Will, who bowed his head. "Fai, Damien, whatever I should call him, got all confrontational. He told me it was my fault and got all up in my face. He said something about cutting, and... that really pissed Will and I off. He went up the stairs after that and I took a bus as far as I could. Yasuko will have a lot more information about the actual meeting. They... they fu- they trusted him...." He shook his head.

"Where did you go?" 

"Uh... I don't really know. I got high. Hooked up with a dealer and ended up on her couch for a few nights. I know that nobody tried to call or text me."

"Is it fair to say that you were more caught up in your own life than Abel's kidnapping?"

He scowled. "I---yeah, I guess so."

Similar questions were thrown his way for the next ten minutes. He tried to answer them, but his answers were bitter and choppy.

"You worked at what is now known as Kodama's Ramen, correct?" asked the DDA, shuffling a small stack of papers. Lawyers and their papers....

"Yeah. A couple days after I went back to the apartment I got a call saying I was hired. Just a janitor, but whatever. It was something to do, a way to pay rent."

"Did anything happen there?"

"I mean... Damien was kind of a frequent. Most of the time he came to talk to Yasuko and sometimes he'd buy ramen to go. Always to go."

The DDA nodded. "I have no further questions."

The judge asked if the defense had any questions, and the attorney stood. "Yes, Your Honor," he said curtly, and turned to Arius. "Do you have any proof of my client's purchases or his presence in this town at all?" 

Arius crossed his arms. "That's kind of the problem," he huffed. "He always wore thin leather gloves, always paid in cash, took the receipts, always walked instead of driving, and his phone never connected to the wifi. Literally no trace. The restaurant couldn't afford cameras at the time either. We have witnesses though! Tons of them! Most of them couldn't make it, obviously, but... some other day they could come forward or something."

"I see," said the attorney rather dryly. "What makes you believe Donnelly's story? Has he not run away from home before?"

"He... has, yeah... but never for that long. And he's my brother! Can you not see how damn---sorry---how traumatized he is? I can barely even see his old self anymore. You should have seen him when he first came home. He wouldn't speak or eat or sleep, he was so scared... Abel's not an actor. Also, he didn't like his scars visible. He wouldn't... wouldn't cut a tally chart into his hands. He didn't know Damien at all, he had no reason to frame him!"

"It was mentioned that you and the defendant had a relationship in high school, and that he, however you would like to phrase it, broke your heart. Would he not want to get back at the man who hurt his brother?"

"Are you kidding? No! He's not that kind of person! Especially to that extent!" he exclaimed, incredulous. "And he didn't break my heart or whatever. It wasn't a big event at all, Abel might not have even known about the entire thing."

"I have no further questions," said the defender, and Arius sighed with relief. He was excused from the witness stand and told to leave the room. And the next witness took the stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna need to call some back for further testimony later because i have no idea what's gonna happen


	17. you got a pulse and you are breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel cleans the room, has nightmares, and damien says shit

Weak sunlight was waltzing across the room by the time his eyelids fluttered open. He was cold to the point where he was shivering and curled up. His body hurt, most notably his face and his the palm of his hand. Everything that had happened the previous day came back to him in an instant. He exhaled, staring tiredly at the clothes he’d strewn about the room in his fit of anger. 

Right. The stinging in his hand reminded him that he had to clean, at least before sundown. His grumbling stomach reminded him of another consequence he had to face due to losing his temper. He felt that he had a right to lose his temper, considering that he was being held against his will and mocked nearly every day, but Damien obviously didn’t feel the same about basic human rights. 

_ Of course he doesn’t. He’s literally selling human beings. _

It took a while to crawl to his feet, as he was very dizzy and he had a killer headache, but when he was standing, he headed for the bathroom. The first thing he did was turn on the light at squint at himself in the mirror. He saw exactly what he expected. His face was covered in bruises that were turning purple, and his nose… it was still crooked. Still hurt like hell. His left eye was, well, surrounded by a dark bruise, and he couldn’t open it very far. 

He splashed his face with water, wincing when he accidentally used his cut hand to turn on the faucet. Huh, maybe he could… he turned off the water and opened the top drawer, searching for the razor. 

Aha. The blade was still out, clean now. Seeing it didn’t bring back good memories. He tossed it in the toilet, took a piss, and flushed it down. A small triumph.

Once he’d done the bare minimum to maintain his hygiene and hair, he started to clean up the bedroom. He threw the clothes into different piles around the room depending on their color, often growing frustrated that he had to drag the chains around. And he couldn’t reach the lamp---how was that fair? How was he supposed to clean it up? Son of a bitch….

As he worked, the sun rose higher into the sky. He broke each pile down into sizes, and started to fold them and put them away (after putting the drawer back into the dresser). He’d always hated doing chores. Probably why the apartment was always a mess.

The apartment… he missed it. He missed its messy, crowded charm. The hoodies thrown over chairs that they’d throw on when going outside, no matter whose it was. The toilet that kept clogging. The fridge full of fast food and leftovers. Suko’s houseplants, which they couldn’t stop buying---they did their best to water the plants every day, but many of them ended up dying. Abel tried to help. It was a conspiracy theory that Arius was out to kill every last one of them. Arius would always roll his eyes.

There was a time when he used to hate Arius. It was a mutual hate, really. They’d fight all the time, physically and verbally. They found each other insufferable, because Arius felt that the world revolved around him and Abel was depressed as hell. There were times when they showed that they did care, at least a little, like when Arius found out that he was cutting and when Arius went through a breakup. It was rarely expressed, but there was a protective bond buried somewhere. As much as they argued, Abel really did miss Arius and his stupid sarcastic attitude. 

Part of him wondered if he’d ever see any of them again. Would he ever experience Suko’s crushing hugs again, the ones where they buried their face in his shoulder and hugged him so tightly that he felt a rib would break? Would he see Glenn’s beaming smile when Abel showed him a drawing? Arius’s annoyed looks when Abel got too excited over a video game? Playing cards with Mari, even though he barely ever saw her? He wished he hadn’t taken those moments for granted.

Abel tried to clear his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. It sucked to dwell on those things. He put the clothes away, noticing that there were none above a large. He didn’t like those implications. 

He sorted the clothes in the drawers by their sizes, mainly. Each drawer had a size, and within each the colors were separated. He didn’t really remember how Damien had it, but frankly, if the bitch wanted it a specific way then he could do it himself. 

Seeing as it looked to be only around nine or ten, he took a break. He lied down on the bed (or rather, the mattress), on his side, and stared at what lay beyond the glass of the window. He wanted to be out there. Damien could go fuck himself on a pine tree for all Abel cared.

He dozed off, but didn’t sleep as heavily as usual due to the lack of food and therefore, the lack of drugs. Part of him was grateful, but it was also much harder to pass the time. It did, however, allow him to dream. But that wasn’t much of a mercy when it was a nightmare. 

He dreamt that the room was slowly filling with water, and Damien was there with the razor held between his fingers. He slit Abel’s wrists from the crook of his elbow to the bottom of his palm and pushed him underwater, holding him down while he bled out and drowned, staining the water red. The worst part was, Suko was outside the window, nonchalantly watching him die.

The blood tasted and smelled very real, and he soon realized why. When he jolted out of his nightmare, he found that he’d bit down on his own tongue so hard that it was bleeding. Not badly, but bleeding all the same. He cringed at the metallic tang, which was all he could taste at the moment. Carefully, he got up and went into the bathroom. He spit the blood out into the sink and used the tap water to wash the rest out of his mouth. Gross. 

He paused over the sick for a minute or two, feeling like he was going to throw up. Shit, he probably got a concussion from… yesterday’s events.

He didn’t throw up, however, so he returned to the bedroom and squinted out of the window, as close as he could get to it at least. It was probably noon. He’d slept longer than he thought. His stomach growled at him again, and he frowned. Stupid fucking… stupid. Stupid stupid. 

The least Damien could do was give him a calendar, or a puzzle, or a gameboy,  _ something  _ to keep him occupied. He’d never been more bored in his life.

It took Abel about ten minutes to make the bed, slowed by the lack of flexibility his hand had and the goddamn chains that were always being dragged around. Then he had to figure out how to clean up the lamp, because he was pretty sure Damien expected him to. Better to be safe than sorry.

The window, and therefore the lamp, was about a foot from his reach. Maybe if he got some sort of stick… or if he couldn’t, a shirt could do… might not work as well though. He searched the room and the bathroom, scouring for anything that could drag the pieces over to him.

…

Well, the plunger would work well enough. 

He looked at it to make sure it was clean, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Anything belonging to Damien was absolutely pristine, even the toilet plunger. Ridiculous. 

He made his way as close to the window as he could, then knelt and extended the plunger. If he held it completely horizontally he could get it to touch the wall. He could plunge Damien’s perfectly painted walls. Probably wouldn’t do anything, but still. Abel got it mostly behind the shards of glass and pulled it toward him. When they were within his reach, he carefully slid them closer, and repeated the process until he had a small pile of the lightbulb’s remains. There were still a few pieces left by the wall, which took him a frustrating two minutes to get. 

The bigger pieces, like the lampshade and the base, were a lot easier to get. He very, very carefully scooped the glass pieces into his bandaged hand, as they probably wouldn’t cut so easily through the wrap. It still hurt a lot to curl his fingers inward, as it disturbed the cuts. But he did it anyway in the fear that he’d have one more cut to add to the collection if he messed up. He deposited the shards into the small trash bin, though he had to make multiple trips. The tiny pieces were the worst. His fingers were bleeding a little by the time he was done. They were nothing compared to what could happen, he knew, so he ignored them. He kind of just set the lampshade on top of the stand, which was wrapped in its cord, and put it on the dresser in all of its awkward glory. 

He looked around. Clean. Like nothing had happened.

Except for the little dent in the wall where he’d been bashing his shackles. His shoulder ached as a reminder. Well, he couldn’t fix that. If his captor expected him to, well, he might as well grow a tail. 

He lied down, exhausted and hungry. His head spun from all of the activity. He hated how weak his body had become. Hated everything about his situation. 

Abel drifted off, tossing about in a fitful sleep. He was restless, paranoid, his eyes cracking open every once and a while to see the sun’s progression across the sky. He was afraid that Damien would come in at any moment and hurt him. Mock him because some tiny thing was off…. 

The door opened, and there he stood, watching Abel. He walked closer, reaching out, his hand brushing through Abel’s hair like he’d done so many times in the first couple weeks. Then he grabbed hold and pulled, tearing the hair out of his scalp, and his hair was green like it had been in high school, and he screamed as clumps were ripped from his head, and he was bleeding, and someone was touching his wrists, gently tugging, and he couldn’t breathe---

“Abel.” A raised voice, one that commanded his attention, cutting right through his delusions.

His eyes snapped open, filled with fear. He found himself on the floor, looking up at Damien. His captor seemed neither concerned nor amused, staring down at him and holding his wrists with a tight grip that softened as he awoke. Abel came to the slow realization that he’d been pulling at his own hair, though only a few strands were clenched tightly between his fingers. He was bleeding slightly through the bandages on his hand. He tried to catch his breath, though it seemed impossible. It was like he’d run a marathon. He closed his eyes again, chest rising and falling with halting breaths.

“Abel,” Damien said again, quieter this time. “Only I may hurt you, do you understand? Quit hurting yourself before I am forced to make it impossible.” He reinforced this with a squeeze of his wrists. Abel didn’t respond. He felt too drained to move or speak.

As Damien sighed and stood up, Abel absently wondered if he’d done a good enough job with the room. Had he missed something? Did he remember to put back the plunger? He closed his fist, anxious at the thought of another damn tally. 

A minute went by before he heard footsteps pass by him again (did Damien ever take off his shoes?). Drawers were opened at considerable intervals, no doubt he was looking at every detail. Abel kept his eyes shut and drew his bandaged palm up to his chest protectively. He had the feeling that no matter what, Damien would do what he wanted. It was awful knowledge to have, but it had been proven true time and time again. No matter how much he fought, he was beaten into submission. Even worse, he felt that he hadn’t even come close to what Damien was capable of doing.

When he felt that he’d caught his breath and he was okay enough, Abel opened his eyes. He tilted his head back, making him wince (there was a lump or two on the back of his head), and saw that Damien was still looking through the drawers. He was unbelievably critical, it seemed, but his expression wasn’t changing. It made Abel nervous, to not know what the bitch was thinking.

Finally the last drawer was closed and Damien turned around, looking down at Abel. The suspense hung in the air between them. Their eyes were uncomfortably locked. Why were his eyes so fucking dark? And angry? And intriguing? All the time? 

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” he said simply, catching Abel off guard. 

“So I get to eat? Cool but- what about the room? Are you gonna… I- did I do fine? It was really fucking hard so it better---” 

“Quiet,” Damien snapped.

“Look fucker, my hand, head, and stomach hurts, and I have a concussion, and I still did shit. Are you just going to ignore me?” He sat up, head spinning. Yeah, this was a bad idea.

His captor knelt in front of him, once again invading his personal space. “Are you seeking praise?” he mocked, his sadistically amused demeanor returning. Fuck. 

Realizing his mistake, Abel tried to talk his way out of it. “No! Least of all from you. Just---forget it, I don’t know. Go back to whatever. I’ll just… nap, I don’t care.” It was not working.

“You did very well, Abel. Perhaps even exceeded my expectations.”

“Hey, no---shut up!” he said indignantly, cringing. He scooted backward, and to his relief Damien didn’t follow his movement. There was at least some distance between them.

“I find your personality to be rather unclear,” said Damien abruptly, tilting his head. Whoa, way to change the subject. “You behave when you are hurt but later proceed to rebel and curse at me. You declare your hatred for me, and yet sometimes you act as if you want to be fucked. What is it, Abel?”

Uh oh. That took a bad turn. Abel turned red, feeling angry and embarrassed, even if what Damien was saying wasn’t true. He didn’t really know what to do, but he for sure wanted to punch that stupid face. “I-I- what the fuck? I don’t know where you got  _ any  _ of that, but… christ. You’re getting the absolute wrong signals,” he protested. Damien smiled ominously, and stood. Tall bitch. Pale beanstalk son of a bitch. God, Abel wanted to strangle him to death. 

“It is my job to break down people like you. As others before you, it is assured that you will give in at some point. After that, it only takes a few weeks to destroy what you were.”

Gross. Fuck. What the hell. 

“Be as disgusted as you would like. It is all part of the business.” Stupid…  _ stupid.  _ If Damien actually believed that Abel would be interested in him, he was flat out stupid. The fact that he was stupidly pretty meant  _ nothing _ , because his personality was ugly as hell and that wasn’t going to change. Whatever happened yesterday was unfair and wrong and disgusting. Didn’t matter.

What if he didn’t get out in time?

Would any of that actually happen if he was there long enough?

Those uneasy thoughts started to grow in the back of his mind, and would continue to spread throughout the following year. He didn’t know it then, but he was in for one hell of a trip. He didn’t know it then, but the wicked way in which Damien smiled down at him told him exactly what he was in for.


	18. tears falling down at the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more bullshit w damien and abel but its less physical abuse for once and more of him being an ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IVE BEEN SO BUSY AND IVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING SM IM SORRY

About a week had passed and things weren’t improving in any aspect. They had regular conversations, Abel and his captor, but none were productive and almost always ended up in one of them losing their temper. It _always_ ended up with Damien hurting him. Abel had a lot more bruises than when he started (adding to the awful clusterfuck that was his black and blue face), and he’d been speaking less and less as time went on. If he didn’t say anything, he couldn’t be hurt. At least, that was his mindset. It didn’t always prove to be true.

“So many questions that you are afraid to ask,” Damien observed, glancing up from his book with mild amusement. He was sitting in a chair out of Abel’s reach again, one leg crossed over the other with a large novel in his lap. He was framed by the light coming through the window like some… saint. Bullshit.

It always started like this. Some absentminded comment, then steadily more provoking ones, until Abel snapped and created an excuse for Damien to hurt him. Abel tried to ignore him, staring at the ceiling. It was nothing special. A few spidering cracks in the ceiling, but they were repaired….

He had a calendar, but he’d memorized its picture and dates within a couple of days. There was nothing to do. He hated to admit it, but Damien’s presence was a relief compared to the vacant silence.

The bitch regarded him over the book. “Frightened into silence already? It has only been a little under a month,” he teased, leaning his head on one hand. “I have kept some here for up to a year. Do not make our time together so boring.” At this, his small smile faded and his eyes became colder. Abel didn’t answer, but out of Damien’s sight, one of his hands started to pick at the fabric of his shirt as he grew more anxious. A year… he couldn’t imagine. He’d either die or go insane. 

“A toy without batteries is useless,” the fucker continued, closing the book. “Such unresponsiveness will easily get you killed or sold again. A very bad rep for the business, you see, and a bad outcome for yourself. Do you not understand that I am trying to fix you?” 

At that, Abel scrunched up his nose in disgust. _Fix?_ That was ridiculous. But he couldn’t voice his opinions, not when Damien was now standing and walking slowly toward the bed. Abel inched away, admittedly frightened. He hid his hand, the one that was bandaged. He had acquired a new tally once Damien found out he’d disposed of the razor, and he really didn’t want a seventh. 

“Speak up, you tiresome little shit.”

Abel flinched. He rarely ever heard Damien use language like that. “What the fuck do you want me to say?” he spat, and then winced and hurriedly sat up, pinning his hand between his back and the wall. He waited for the hit, but it didn’t come. Damien stopped in front of the bed and didn’t make any move to hurt him yet. Instead, he seemed to smile. _Seemed_ to smile, because it was some cruel-looking twist of his lips that appeared more mocking than pleased.

“That is a start, but your master will demand much more respect than that,” he drawled, leaning forward slightly to tower over Abel. Master? What the fuck? 

“I- I’m nobody’s slave,” he retorted, continuously afraid that he was about to pay for his words. “And… especially not yours!” _Just shut up, oh god._

“Do not be so naive. I am not your master, but I own you, and soon enough you _will_ have a master, and he will not be so merciful.” Was he really finding entertainment in this? The very concept of being owned in such a degrading way made Abel feel sick. 

“You don’t---”

Damien reached forward, and Abel tried to avoid his hand, but all the same Damien grasped his jaw and forced Abel to look at him. “I own you,” he said sternly. His gaze was steely, all traces of amusement gone again. “You are below me, and below my client.”

“No!” he protested, though his voice was weaker than it used to be; he didn’t dare shout. 

The grip became tighter, more forceful, pushing down on the bruises that lie along his jaw. “I own you, Abel,” Damien repeated a little louder than before. “You are _mine._ ” 

“N-No! I’m _not_!” he continued to reject the idea.

There was an awfully lengthy pause. Their eyes were locked. Abel was trembling, doing his best to keep the tears from springing to his eyes. He was tired of crying so much. 

“Deny it one more time, I dare you,” Damien said, colder, quieter.

Abel hesitated, knowing it was a really bad idea to say anything. He opened his mouth, ready to say something to deny the derogatory statement, and quickly noticed that those dark eyes were drawn to his lips. He shut his mouth tightly, like it had been screwed shut. Nope. Not going to open that can of worms. It was better just to be quiet…. 

His silence seemed to be more than satisfactory. Damien smiled, a small but definitely pleased smile. “Very good,” he murmured, letting go of Abel and brushing a hand gently through his hair. Abel made an expression of disgust, but didn’t move. He didn’t like being treated like a goddamn dog. It was nice, however, to have an argument not end in violence. 

Finally, to his relief, Damien backed off and went to retrieve his book. Abel hugged his knees to his chest and watched warily. Silence ensued for a few minutes as Damien sat, leg crossed over the other again as he became invested in whatever book he was reading. 

“I thought you got angry when I asked questions,” Abel muttered to break the brief silence. Damien didn’t look up right away, which for some reason made Abel a little frustrated. Then he did, and their eyes met (why did the bastard like eye contact so much anyway?), dark brown on green. 

“Only if you ask too many of the wrong questions,” he replied. “I merely request that you find the balance between silence and constant chattering.”

Right. Whatever. Picky bitch.

He racked his mind for something to say. He did have questions. A lot of them. He just wasn’t certain which ones were the ‘wrong questions.’ He ended up settling on a simple, “Why me?”

Damien shrugged. “You are beautiful, young, gullible. You seemed easy to break, and naturally very submissive. Quite easy to capture. The likes.” He said this so casually. Abel scowled. 

Deciding it definitely wasn’t the time to get pissed off, Abel fired another question, “Why you?”

The other quirked an eyebrow with a silent inquiry.

“Why do you do this shit?” Abel elaborated. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Silence.

“Uh. S-Sorry.”

That was apparently the right thing to do. Damien smiled again, closing the book to give Abel his full attention. “This is a business that makes money, creates a sort of anonymous notoriety, and suits my abilities perfectly. I was meant to follow in the footsteps of my father as a mayor, but his wishes were never mine,” he answered, irritatingly cocky about the whole situation. Cool, so a kidnapper with violent tendencies and daddy issues. _Great._ All he needed was a super tragic backstory.

“C-Cool. When can I talk to everyone again? I’m worried ab---” Damien’s death glare cut him off. “Huh, uh, wrong question?” Stupid picky ass son of a bitch…. 

He missed them so much. All of them. He rarely ever saw Suko’s old high school friends, but he still missed them. It was Suko and Arius that he missed most of all, though. A pang of homesickness hit him in the chest. He slumped against the wall, pulling the blanket over his legs and fixing his tired eyes on the window. His eye hurt, as it was blackened and bruised, and the recognition of the fact made the pain of everything else more apparent. 

“I want to go home,” he murmured, albeit knowing it was the wrong thing to say. Damien chuckled, but didn’t respond to the statement other than that. He clearly just… didn’t care. That made Abel feel way worse. And Damien was still staring at him expectantly. Double worse. They remained quiet, kind of just looking at each other; except Damien’s gaze was steady and Abel kept looking away nervously. He didn’t like looking at his captor’s face for too long.

Finally Damien asked, “Do I scare you, Abel?” _No shit, Sherlock,_ he thought. He shrugged, resisting the urge to scoff. “That needs to change, then,” the bitch said. Oh yikes. Oh shit. Fuck.

“N-No-! You do, it’s just- who the fuck is gonna admit to that?” 

“And yet you still enjoy my company.” Presumptuous little shit.

He raised an eyebrow and shot back, “Who said I d-” He cut himself off. “Sorry,” he said quickly, lowering his gaze. He felt ashamed that he was so easily ‘tamed,’ but it really was necessary.

Damien seemed to love that he apologized. He tilted his head slightly and praised, "You have learned so much, _mo grá._ Your obedience will pay off. I promise.” 

Obedience. Such a degrading word. It was something you’d use for a dog, or a misbehaving child- not a living person. Was it possible to be so twisted? Well, obviously, considering someone that twisted was sitting across the room… it made Abel feel sick to know that he was thought of only as an object. Nobody should be treated as an object.

“Can I… um… have something to do? Like… comics, books, games, a sketchbook… I’m really fuckin’ bored,” he requested, since he was on the right track anyway. Maybe if he behaved or whatever, he’d actually get somewhere. Seemed to be working so far, anyway. 

He looked to be actually considering it, and Abel was metaphorically crossing his fingers. He’d never been so bored in his life, and if he wasn’t getting out of there he might as well be kept occupied. 

Not like he _couldn’t_ get out… he had to and would get out, eventually- no fucking way he was going to go down that easy. He wasn’t going to be sold to anyone, he wasn’t going to be anyone’s bitch. But for the moment… a comic book would be nice. 

“I suppose so,” said Damien, standing and setting the book on the windowsill. “But you need to do me a favor.” Abel didn’t like the sound of that, but he didn’t say anything, simply narrowing his eyes to show his suspicion. His captor smirked and left the room. He left the door open, signifying his confidence that: first, Abel wouldn’t escape, and second, he would be back. 

Abel looked around. There was nothing he could use to escape his shackles, at least not nearby. He peered up at the place where the shackles were attached to the wall, and then the long lengths of sleek chains coiled around the bedposts. The holder things looked to be very securely bolted to the wall, but the chains weren’t thick… maybe he could wear them down after a while if he tried hard enough. The bedposts looked to be the best contender. He could probably find something to throw at the window, too, and since he was in Shady Creek, it shouldn’t be that hard to get home or at least find authority.

That stream of thought was cut off as footsteps approached and Damien entered the room again. He held a black sketchbook, like the kind you’d buy for art class, and a bag of pencils and colors. Abel perked up, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward. His art skills would be rusty at best, but he was excited to have something to do in the first place. But what was that favor…? 

Almost instantly answering his question, Damien placed the items beside Abel and said, “Make me something.” Abel scowled. Pretentious little shit! He supposed he shouldn’t be complaining, as he had drawing tools now, but it was still a nuisance. 

It wasn’t hard to come up with something to draw. He was hesitant, though, especially when Damien sat against the wall beside him to watch, so close that their elbows touched. Abel scooted to the side, kind of recoiling. Apparently personal space wasn’t allowed, though; Damien grabbed his arm and dragged him back sternly. Yikes. 

So he ended up slumping, leaning away as he opened to the first fresh page and started to sketch. He purposefully kept it vague, not really outlining, so that he might have a chance of making progress before he got punched in the face. He started with the small details, the tiniest lines.

Damien understood it faster than Abel expected. He laughed, which was unsettling, and was even more so when he put his hand over Abel’s bandaged one. “How original.”

Abel tried to ignore him and focus on finishing the drawing. He drew a little faster, shakier, but it didn’t turn out bad. He just tried to get it done. And only when it was done did he lean back and admire his work. It was a good sketch of a hand holding up its longest finger. He couldn’t lie to himself; he was proud. Scared of the consequences, but proud.

“Your abilities are lovely, Abel,” Damien began (god Abel hated it when that bitch said his name), “but certainly not what I was looking for. Come along.” He clamped his grip down on Abel’s bandaged hand and tugged. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit,_ was all Abel could think, and his stomach twisted at the thought.

“N-No! Wait, please- I’ll try again,” he pleaded, trying to pull his hand back. 

His captor paused at that, raising his eyebrows. Did he expect more? 

Whatever. His pride wasn’t worth the pain. “I’m sorry, I was… just joking around,” he added.

That seemed sufficient enough. Though Damien didn’t let go of his hand, which made things awkwardly intimate, he didn’t make a motion to drag Abel toward the bathroom. That was good, at least. But Abel hadn’t thought any further than to apologize. He scrambled for ideas. He probably only had one chance to redeem himself. “Um… I used t-to be good at drawing eyes, if that’s…” he trailed off, staring hard at the paper, drawing hand trembling slightly. 

“That would do.”

 _Well, no backing out now._ He forced himself to look at Damien’s eyes, memorizing the shape as fast as possible before looking back down. He sketched it out, the basic shape at least. 

Drawing them made Abel realize that Damien’s eyes weren’t totally unique. He was a horribly beautiful man, sure, but not a god. His eyes were normal; shaped nicely and a smooth dark tone, but not out-of-this-world beautiful. It was kind of refreshing to realize that he was still human. Well—that was debatable actually—but whatever. He still had nice eyes.

Why were beautiful people the most awful people? Sure, Suko and Glenn were gorgeous and lovely people, but it seemed like a lot of shitty people were also beautiful. Was it the looks that made them narcissistic assholes, or was it the ugly personality that forced them to make themselves beautiful on the outside? Altogether it was shitty, because naturally someone can be attracted to looks despite an ugly personality. Anyone could fall in love with a sociopath if they aren’t careful, and that seemed to be the sad truth. Abel had spent more time thinking about this than he’d like to admit. 

“How many people have you fallen in love with, Abel?” 

The question startled him out of thought. He looked back up, confused and disturbed. “Hey um… why the fuck are you always in my head?” he asked. Damien grinned, squeezing Abel’s hand and making him wince at the pressure on his cuts. Abel looked back down, scowling. 

“So you were thinking of love, hm?” Damien drawled, smug as all hell. “Why is that?” 

Abel didn’t answer that. The real reason would get him hurt. He instead went back to drawing. It was turning out pretty well, he just needed to darken the shading, especially in… what was it? That colored part around the pupil… he’d never really bothered to learn the term.

Another harsh squeeze of his hand made him jump, dropping the pencil to grab Damien’s hand in an attempt to pry it away. Small patches of red appeared on the bandages. “Do I really need to prompt you for an answer each time?” the bastard asked; Abel really wished he’d shut up.

“F-Fine! I’ve had crushes, I don’t know if I’ve fallen in love or anything! And I don’t know! Why do we think about anything?” he shot back, still trying to free his injured hand. “P-Please just leave me alone, I’m trying to draw this shit for you!”

Surprisingly, Damien let that slide for once. “Mm. Fine,” he said as he let go of Abel’s hand, a sly smile on his face. Abel frowned, picking up the pencil and trying to finish up the drawing so Damien could go away already. Well, he didn’t really… want Damien to leave, per se, but… he could at least stop being a bitch, right? 

When the drawing was done, he put down the pencil to signify such. He shoved the sketchbook a little bit toward Damien, looking away. 

“Good,” Damien praised. “Much better. You certainly have skill.” Abel tried not to react, frankly disturbed, but couldn’t stop his face from getting red. He wasn’t often complimented on his art, excluding Suko’s constant praise of it. So it was… nice… no, that wasn’t the word. Just different. He tried to distract himself with thoughts, not wanting to give the bastard any more satisfaction than he already had from whatever amount of blushing Abel was doing at the moment. He’d always blushed easily, and being stuck in a room with a creep was a really bad situation to be blushing easily. 

“Um… is… is Ari okay?” he dared to ask, trying to change the subject. Any glee in his captor’s expression dissipated. Wrong thing to say, but… Abel wasn’t going to give up. He needed to know if Arius was okay, more than he needed his hand. 

“Probably not. We have not seen him,” he answered, dismissive and bored. “Might have overdosed, been shot, killed himself. Who knows.” 

Without thinking, he shoved Damien with all of his strength. “Sh-shut up! He’s not dead!” he blurted. Damien lost his balance on the bed for a second, and then cast aside the sketchbook and pencils as he lunged. Abel crashed onto his back, luckily still on the softness of the mattress, and began to panic as his wrists were held down. “Stop! Stop, leave me a-alone!” he cried out. Damien didn’t listen, pinning him but not yet hurting him. It seemed way too intimate….

“I will kill him myself if you do not stop worrying about that useless piece of shit,” he threatened. He looked totally serious, and he probably was serious. Abel paled, immediately imagining the possibilities. He stopped struggling, feeling ready to cry.

“Don’t….” Abel whispered, voice trembling. Damien gave him a wicked smile. 

“You really do care about him.”

“I-I-”

“Then let us strike a deal, yes?”


	19. i can lie and say i like it like that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we see what arius has been doing for the past week... and he makes a mistake by calling damien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SORRY HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO WRITE
> 
> TW: THREATS/MENTION OF RAPE/SUICIDE 
> 
> DAMIENS A BASTARD THATS ALL I HAVE TO SAY

Arius had to get home.

It had been a week, probably the longest week of his life. His phone was dead and nobody was willing to lend him a charger, but he could bet that nobody had tried to text or call him. He didn’t matter to anyone anymore, especially not Chase or Yasuko. Or Damien. Of course, nobody mattered to Damien.

That was just the state of mind he was in. At the rare times he allowed himself to actually think, he'd always end up miserable and... lonely, more than anything. He felt homesick too. Everyone he had was far away and didn’t want him, and it hurt more than he thought it would. He felt selfish and stupid, especially because Abel… Abel was in danger. Wherever he was, he was in danger, and the thought affected him more than anything else at the moment.

And Chase was hurt. He'd come to terms with the fact that nothing Chase had done made him deserve the shit Arius was putting him through, especially because Chase still seemed to like- no, _love_ \- him. Arius felt like he was using the poor guy, which did not help his self esteem. It was becoming glaringly obvious that he was an awful person. He couldn't brush it off anymore. The image of Chase's eyes full of tears and rage was burned into his mind, slipping into his consciousness every time he let his guard down. He began to wonder if he hated Chase as much as he told himself he did. A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, right?

A week ago he’d walked out with a small handful of cash and taken at least three rickety buses just to get away from Shady Creek, to get away from anything familiar. He’d ended up in some dirty city riddled with crime, drugs, and most of all prostitution. It was a place that he oddly belonged in, but he certainly didn’t like it, nor did he like that he blended in just fine. He didn't want to belong in such a disgusting place.

He had performed a few small sexual favors to get some cash and then met up with a reliable drug dealer, someone Abel used to know. For a few days he slept on cold benches and got high, frequenting bars and clubs. After the fourth day of meeting with the dealer, she asked if he needed a place to go. He said yes, and ended up at her apartment for about three days. It was a dingy place that smelled like burnt plastic and chemicals. It was messy and gross, but not as dirty as the streets. He was fine with the arrangement, though the couch was uncomfortable and the springs seemed to prod at his back all night, making him sore every morning. 

When he ran out of money to pay for the drugs he refused to have sex with her, but did other favors in order to stay as high as he could. Anything so he didn't have to think about everything he'd left behind. They got high together, she talking about whatever came to mind and he staring at the ceiling in a contemplative daze.

Her name was Quinn, or at least that was what she went by on the streets. Her phone frequently buzzed and rang, or she’d be out at odd hours doing what dealers do. She had a regular job, of course, so she was often out most of the day. Arius didn't mind. He slept and smoked most of the time. It was a monotonous time, and it seemed to drag on for much longer than it actually did. Every movement felt exaggerated and he was too tired to do anything productive. 

Quinn had a frequent visitor nicknamed Bing, but he was really called Bill. He was always on weed, and liked to show up around 4:20 in the morning or afternoon, which Arius always rolled his eyes at. One day he'd roll his eyes right out of his head, and it'd be Bing's fault. He’d been awakened at least twice by the teen bursting into the apartment yelling something about blazing it- and in response, Quinn would retaliate with a kick to his groin. He always had a skateboard and sunglasses and was probably from Los Angeles.

That was the type of awakening he got today. A pounding on the door and a yelled, “RISE AND SHINE BITCH, TIME FOR SOME RADICAL-” By then Quinn had hurried to the door and opened it. She glared at the kid, but he was oblivious. He was bright as always, a big grin lighting up his cheeks and his stance wide to compliment his broad shoulders. It appeared that his body had matured faster than his mind.

Arius groaned from the lumpy couch, rolling to face the door and glaring at Bing. Green eyes were dull and tinged with red, and his eyes seemed weighed down with dark bags of exhaustion. “Why are y-”

“HEY OSCAR!” he shouted, making Arius scrunch up his face. Right- Oscar was the nickname given to him specifically by Bing, referencing Oscar the Grouch from some show. Bing always made references that nobody got, but Arius supposed he’d been similar when he himself was a teenager. At least he wasn't so damn _annoying._ He wondered if Bing was just putting on an act or... maybe he really was as stupid as he presented himself to be. Arius wouldn't doubt it.

“How much do you want?” Quinn sighed, obviously trying to get rid of him as soon as possible- as anyone sensible would do. Bing instead invited himself in and flopped down on a chair. He didn't seem to care that he'd just crushed an aluminum can on the seat and was leaning against a dirty shirt draped over the chair's back. Quinn shot him another dirty look but didn't say anything further. She was unfortunately used to this.

“Just a quarter, man,” he replied, shooting her an even wider grin than before. “Having a party tonight.” Didn't he have a party like, every night? Christ. 

She nodded and retreated to where she kept the weed, digging through a drawer and pulling out a small bag of the substance. Bing dug through his wallet for the cash, which was a painful amount, and handed it over. They made the trade and Bing was lighting up almost immediately, filling the apartment with a musky scent. Arius inhaled, like he was trying to catch a whiff. It was sad how desperate he was.

Bing noticed and leaned forward with his arm outstretched. "Want a hit?" he asked generously, and Arius gladly took the opportunity. He breathed in, letting the addictive smoke reach his lungs. He handed the joint back to Bing with a nod. The drugs weren't of high quality (hah), but they did the job. "Why the fuck you here, Oscar?" Bing inquired, blowing some smoke in his direction, any emotion in his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. Was that intentional?

"Kicked out," he replied bluntly, becoming suddenly interested in his dead phone. He was just pressing the power button over and over, not really paying attention to anything. Just... fidgeting, like that would get his mind off it. Hell, that was all he'd been doing lately. Trying to get his mind off of things. He knew he couldn't do it forever, but he wasn't prepared to face all the shit he'd done. How much he'd hurt Chase, and Suko, and himself....

The teen nodded wisely, brown curls bouncing with the movement of his head. "Happens," he said without a tinge of shame or awkwardness. "What was it about?" Arius really didn't care to tell his life story to some random crackhead named after a search engine, but what did he have to lose? It's not like anyone else would ask him what happened. Not like anyone else would care at all. He huffed, his breath pushing a loose strand of hair away from his face for only a moment. He brushed it aside, acutely aware of how his fingernails scraped against his skin. Weed was kicking in. 

Neither looked at each other for a while, but it was clear that Bing was still waiting for an answer. His leg was bouncing in what must be mindless fidgeting. That was something they had in common, at least, though Arius often tried to refrain from fidgeting. Abel never had, but... fuck, he needed to stop thinking about him. Even so, he could picture Abel so perfectly, drumming his fingers on whatever surface was near while he held his phone in the other hand, biting his lip. He was never still, kept bouncing back and forth between his feet and tapping on every table he could reach. 

"Drunkenly led an ex on, I guess," Arius began tentatively, still keeping the black phone screen between himself and Bing as if it gave him any sense of security (it didn't). "We argued pretty bad when I was sober. Then I was kicked out by my roommate. They've never liked me, I think." He sighed, leaning his cheek on his hand. His hair fell over his eyes, reminding him of his utter lack of hygiene and need of a haircut. The reminder made him feel worse. "Fuck... all Chase wanted was to help and I literally and figuratively fucked him."

"Bro," Bing began earnestly, leaning forward with the joint hanging from the corner of his mouth. "You should go back. Can't just run away from your problems like that." Arius rose an eyebrow, giving Bing a once-over. In response Bing just smiled crookedly, knowing he was a hypocrite.

He thought about what Bing had said. Arius wasn't usually one to run away from his problems, in fact he was quite confrontational, but that had always been a source of more problems for him. At least then everything was resolved and closed up with a bow, whereas when he ran, it all became messier.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he jumped, looking to his right to see Bing standing beside the couch. His expression was firm, as was his grip, and he was holding out a twenty dollar bill. "You need to go back, dude. You'll just lose everything if you stay here. This city is rotten," he told him, and something in his expression told Arius exactly what he said five seconds later. "I'm not letting you make my mistake." 

He shook his head, slowly at first. "You... don't get it. There's nothing left for me where I came from. Fucking unfortunately, I belong here," he shot back, moving away from Bing's touch. He was really regretting saying anything. He couldn't just... be kicked out again. Because there was no way he could go home.

Bing's gaze hardened resolutely. "You're like twenty, dumbass. Your life isn't over already," be said. He protested, because no, he was twenty-nine, but Bing cut him off with a lifted finger. He scowled, falling back onto the couch and crossing his arms like an upset child. 

"They don't want me back." He said it with such certainty that one might think he was absolutely sure of this. But for some reason, he wasn't. There was a shred of doubt in his mind now, with two pairs of gazes fixed on him. Quinn was watching from an armchair, silent. He thought of Chase, of how he'd tried so hard to please Arius, how he'd wanted nothing more than to help, how he'd swore up and down that he wasn't the one to come onto Arius when he was drunk. God, he was awful to Chase. It wasn't a new realization, but it still made him want to kick himself. 

"Oh, shut the hell up. Give it a shot. If it doesn't work, call me," Bing replied, dropping the twenty dollar bill onto his lap. Arius waved his phone about incredulously, because it was _dead_ , but he pulled a charger out of the wall and chucked it at him too. Quinn, oddly, didn't seem to mind. In fact, she was agreeing with Bing. He kind of just stared at the both of them then, wide-eyed and admittedly helpless.

"Why do you care? Honestly," he sighed, still not budging from the couch. "My brother's... probably dead, to be honest... my ex wants me dead, and my roommate couldn't care less about me."

Quinn sat up straight, a sudden panic in her voice as she asked, "You're Arius Donnelly, aren't you?"

He froze. He'd never told her his last name. His expression must have been enough to answer her question, and she continued, "You need to leave. If you want Abel safe, you need to leave." 

At that, he shot to his feet, rushing forward and grabbing her by the shoulders. In return she grasped his wrists, her hands cold and grip tight. He knew she didn't like contact, but he wasn't about to let go. "Tell me," he hissed, "about my brother. Spit it out! What do you fucking know, Quinn?" 

She stood up and shoved him back. He stumbled over the things he'd dropped when he stood. He kept his footing and sneered. "TELL ME!" he shouted, his heart pounding. She knew something, he was sure of it. "I'LL CALL THE FUCKING POLICE!" He wouldn't, because he'd be in great trouble for possessing the cocaine he had in his system, and she knew it.

"Go home," she spat, pointing at the door. "He'll kill us all if he finds out about this."

Arius rarely felt fear. But he felt it now, a racing sense of being in the worst possible trouble. He had to leave, but was torn between running and demanding more information. "What- who's he?" The words tumbled out of his mouth, and he scrambled to pick up all the shit he'd dropped, including his phone and newfound charger. 

"The ass who took your brother is more influential than you think," she said, trying to explain hurriedly. "There are people out there looking for you." 

" _Why?_ What do they want?" He kept asking questions, panicking.

At this point, Bing was wide-eyed and looked just as scared as Arius felt. "Just go. You can't be here," Quinn insisted, pushing Arius toward the door. He felt like a fugitive, though he didn't know who he was running from and why. He backed away, putting a hand on the doorknob, hesitating.

"I... Quinn- what-"

"Go. You have my number. You just... need to get home. Abel's in trouble if you don't," she insisted, shooing him out. It was then that Bing jumped up, stopping Arius with a hand on his arm that was quickly brushed off with a frown.

"Hold up! I need your number, dude," he said quickly, opening up his contacts to create a new one. Arius sighed and rattled it off from memory, without a hitch. He'd given his number to a lot of people. Never in a situation like this, certainly, but what was so different?

Bing typed it in and then quickly snapped a picture of Arius's face, which the latter obviously didn't appreciate, so the picture ended up being him cringing away from the camera, blurry. Bing didn't take a new one. He just gave Arius a quick grin, patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out. "Good luck, stay safe man!" 

Arius didn't say anything else. He left, slamming the door behind him and rushing for the stairs. He practically tripped his way all the way down the stairs in his hurry.

What Quinn said echoed in his head over and over until he couldn't hear anything else. _Abel's in trouble._ He couldn't imagine what could happen if he didn't... comply. The only silver lining was that he knew Abel was alive. That was a relief, to say the least. Still, it was more than terrifying to know that potentially dangerous people were looking for him.

The nearest bus stop told him that the next bus out of town was twenty minutes from its stop here. His heart sunk. He kept an eye on the thing and went across the street to the nearly empty laundromat, finding an outlet near a corner and plugging his phone in with his borrowed charger. He stared at the black screen, awaiting that obnoxious battery icon.

A few minutes passed. He worried his lip between his teeth, glancing toward the door every time it was opened in those few minutes. He wasn't anxious, per se, but... well, he was anxious. 

When his phone lit up he slouched over it, face close to the screen. It slowly booted up before showing his home screen and the time- 5:18 AM. It was at two percent. That was enough for him, because he unlocked it and immediately went to his contacts, calling what had been Abel's phone. 

It was picked up after a few rings, surprising Arius. He held it up to his ear, waiting with bated breath, his heart the loudest thing he could hear. There was silence on the other end for a solid ten seconds.

_"H-Hello..."_

The voice was weak and afraid, but it held some hope too. He knew that voice. "Abel, holy shit," he said, the words rushing out before he realized how strange Abel had sounded. He rarely said 'hello,' it was always 'hey,' or 'hi.' That was a small thing, but he noticed it all the same.

 _"Oh my god, y-you're ali-"_ his voice rose with excitement, but he was quickly silenced. It sounded like he'd been slapped. Arius was about to scream into the phone, but Abel started talking again. " _Um... d-do- wait, no... oh. Do you care about... him?_ _I'm sorry, he's making me rea-"_ he was saying, but was hit again. Arius was reaching his fucking limit with the second man on the other end of the call.

"Hey!" he started in on the fucker, but Abel- well, Abel's voice- interrupted him.

 _"A-Answer the question,"_ he spoke timidly. _"Be honest. Do you care about your... dear brother?"_

Arius hesitated. He remembered when he'd hesitated to say he loved Abel, and how he'd been cut off, and no doubt Abel had gotten upset about it... the word was right there, a _yes_ at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. 

At that moment, his phone buzzed and lit up with a text. It was from Abel's number. 

> **"Abel":**
> 
> You could never admit it, could you? When you cared about somebody.
> 
> "S-Shut up," Arius hissed. The bubbles at the bottom of the screen popped up, indicating that the other was typing. He felt uneasy. Did this person know him?
> 
> **"Abel":**
> 
> You keep denying it, even to yourself. No wonder everyone you associated with was suicidal. They thought nobody cared, because you stood there smoking and saying nothing.

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, attracting the attention of the entire laundromat. He glowered at them, and they went back to their business. His hand was shaking, making it hard to read the text popping up on his screen. The bastard knew him... maybe that would help narrow down the suspects, but... it was more unnerving than anything.

> **"Abel":**
> 
> How much do you want to bet that Abel will try to slit his wrists with my razor?
> 
> Arius registered that Abel was crying, though it seemed he wasn't near the phone itself. He felt like crying too, but didn't. He just made a choked noise, having no words at the moment. Yet, mercilessly, the bastard kept typing.
> 
> **"Abel":**
> 
> Do you believe me when I say that I would love to fuck him while his blood coats the sheets?

"I-I- I'll fucking kill you, shut the fuck up, I'LL KILL YOU!" He finally found words, screaming into the phone. Someone was escorting him out of the laundromat, so he quickly grabbed his stuff, ripped his charger from the wall, and stormed out onto the street. Adrenaline pumped through him, and he felt more than ready to cave in this fucker's face. His eyes were stinging with furious tears, but he didn't let them fall.

Abel's crying got louder, and he realized that the phone must have been brought closer to his face. _"S-So you... you d-do care,"_ he stammered in an odd voice, seeming to read off the script again. As much as he wanted to, Arius didn't answer that. There was a quiet pause, and Abel sniffed as he tried to regain his composure.

_"You... need to start paying up, o-or he... he will. Pay, I mean. I'll... I'll pay. Oh god."_

Arius's blood boiled, and he brought the phone closer to his mouth. "Leave him the fuck alone, you fucking cunt," he snarled, directing it toward Abel's captor.

> **"Abel":**
> 
> Ah, how tempting... would you behave if he was hurt every time you stepped out of line?
> 
> **"Abel":**
> 
> You must recognize that I have the upper hand, Arius.
> 
> **"Abel":**
> 
> Watch your back. I have people looking for you. Every time he steps out of line, they will hurt you too. Perhaps that will force more cooperation from the both of you, yes?

At that, Arius glanced behind him. Nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he felt even more unsafe than he did leaving the apartment. He looked back at the phone and tried to silently compose himself. He didn't want to give Abel's kidnapper the satisfaction of getting to Arius. He took a deep breath and tried to at least calm his tone, asking into the phone, "Abel? Are... are you still here?"

There was a drawn-out pause before Abel responded, _"Yeah. I'm..."_ He paused, sniffing. _"I'm okay. P-Please be caref- s-shit, sorry. Uh...."_

"What's the goddamn point?" Arius interrupted, speaking again to the other guy. "What's the point in these fucking conversations? Are you just bored?" His voice got angrier as he spoke. "You have no fucking business with Abel, or with me!"

 _"D-Did you forget? You need... need to start paying. I'll- oh my g- he'll be dead in eleven months if... if either the client doesn't come up with the money, or if you don't."_ His voice was trembling, and the words put into his mouth made Arius furious. More furious than he was before, and that was saying something.

"You... you fucking monster," Arius hissed, then decided to ask, "how... how much?"

 _"15,000... I-I..."_ Abel trailed off, horrified. The three of them, meaning Abel, Arius, and Suko, barely made enough to live off of, nevermind enough to pay off a ransom. _"You're lucky, the... the client is paying 20,000. He's... a valuable object?"_ He sounded even more scared. Arius couldn't say anything. He was in shock. Even with all of Yasuko's savings for their shop, there was no way the ransom could be paid. He looked back at the bus stop. Ten minutes until he had a ride to the next town. It felt far too long.

_"The police are already involved, but i-if it goes any further w-we're leaving the state and you'll... be dead."_

"Go fuck yourself," Arius snapped, though he was admittedly scared. Seeing what the bastard had already done so far made him confident that the man would have no problem accomplishing whatever he wanted. That made him dangerous, and they needed to get Abel out as soon as possible. But how?

 _"Good luck... da... d-darling? Wait, no, don't hang up, p-pl-"_ It clicked, and Abel's voice was gone. Arius cursed under his breath and dropped his head in defeat. He was exhausted. Still determined, but he was... so... so tired. He just needed to get home, fuck whatever they thought of him, and they needed to get Abel back. They had to. It worried him enough that Abel had been taken and hurt, but he didn't really sound like himself anymore. He just sounded scared, and kind of broken... which was reasonable enough, but....

Fuck. He needed to stop this.


	20. feeling all the weight of this world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we watch from glenn's perspective when arius comes back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully you can keep track of all the characters

Glenn hated to watch Suko suffer. Seeing them happy was what made his day, and seeing them upset was what wrecked his day. Ever since Abel had disappeared, they'd figuratively and literally been pulling out their hair. They were so stressed all the time, and he could tell that Abel was the only thing on their mind, even when he told them to try to focus on something else.

And then since Arius had run off, they'd been doing worse. They worked overtime without pay and Glenn could hardly find time to spend with them. Though he was doing all he could, even for Chase, things weren't looking up.

At the moment he was at his apartment, which felt oddly empty when he was the only one there. Usually, he didn't mind solitude, but lately he'd been disliking the emptiness more and more. His apartment felt too big for just one person. Even Mari was busy, so she hadn't been able to come over either. He found himself falling into a flat routine of coffee, work, and texting Suko. He couldn't even focus on the book he'd been reading.

He was playing Solitaire on his phone when Suko texted him, and he jumped at the sound of the notification, adjusting his glasses to read what had popped up at the top of his screen. His lips parted in surprise.

> **Suko:**
> 
> hey please gget the fuck over here aris back

He wasted no time, not even bothering to grab a jacket for the cool day. He almost tipped his chair with how fast and carelessly he got up, then jogged out of the door and down the stairs toward his car. The wind brushed through the messy brown curls of his hair like cold fingers. Glenn usually combed his hair into a submissive wave, but he didn't have the time to bother with it, at least not today. 

WIth its comfortingly familiar sound, his car unlocked, and he got into it as quickly as possible without tripping over himself. He checked his reflection in the side mirror quickly, sighed, and turned on the engine. 

Suko's apartment wasn't awfully far away, though it felt like an eternity until he pulled into that dingy parking lot. He'd invited them more than once to live with him, along with their friends if needed, but they said that the current apartment had some sort of charm. Glenn didn't see it. He'd respect their opinions, but the place was filthy. It didn't matter a lot in this situation, so he was ignoring the grime and rushing into the building without a care. He forgot to lock his car, which he only realized halfway up the second set of stairs. He hesitated, then ran back down to lock it. He didn't trust this part of town.

He then ran all the way back up, locating the door he'd seen a million times and hurrying to knock at it. He tried to be gentle with his knocks, as they all needed him to be gentle right now, but it came off more urgently than he intended. Anyhow, the door was opened pretty quick. He wasn't surprised when he was brought into a hug by Suko; it was kind of their thing. He kissed them on the top of their head, their soft curls tickling his skin. "You okay?" he asked softly, resisting the urge to survey the apartment. For now, all of his attention had to be on Suko.

"Mmh... 'm okay, I just... I can't fucking deal with him right now," they mumbled into his chest, and he chuckled. He rubbed between their shoulder blades gently with his thumb, circling in a soothing motion.

When they stepped away, he held their hand and approached the slouched figure on the couch. Arius looked up at him with red eyes; he was either high or had been crying. Both, maybe. "Don't bother fucking schooling me," he growled. "I've had enough of that." 

Granted, that was what Glenn was about to do, but he still took offense to the assumption. "Are you safe? Injured?" he decided to say instead, brushing off the comment. Arius shook his head, and before Glenn could ask which he was shaking his head to, Arius answered him.

"No to both. That bastard has people tracking me, and Abel... he's not doing well. The ransom... the ransom is 15,000 dollars."

Suko's jaw dropped. Glenn tensed. He wasn't poor, but he couldn't easily pay that... he couldn't pay it at all, at the moment. 

Then Arius delivered the even more crushing news. "He'll be dead in eleven months if nobody can pay it off... that includes the bitch who wants to buy him."

Now, this was news to everyone. Even Glenn inhaled sharply. "B-Buy- hold the _fuck_ up. _Buy_ him?" Suko stammered, then blurted, "And... and kill him?" They looked sick, their skin paling and their hand becoming clammy in Glenn's. He squeezed it gently, trying to meet their gaze and reassure them silently. Their eyes were downcast, so they didn't see him looking at them.

Arius just slumped more, looking at his phone. Glenn sighed, knowing he was done talking, and looked around. The apartment was messier than ever. Dust was building up, the floor needed to be swept and vacuumed, and objects were strewn everywhere. It bothered him. He kissed Suko on the forehead and let go of their hand, starting on the cleaning. He knew, or at least believed, that a clean atmosphere made for clearer thoughts. Living in squalor wasn't good for their mental health.

The apartment held an awkward silence as he cleaned. Suko was just standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. They stared at the floor and looked at Glenn occasionally to reassure themself that he was still there. 

When he was moving on to the dishes, he heard someone take a swig of something. He looked toward the noise and startled; he hadn't noticed Chase sitting there in the corner, drinking a flask of what was undoubtedly alcohol. Glenn slowly set down the bowl he was holding and approached him. "May I hug you?" he asked softly. Chase shrugged, then nodded. Glenn gently cloaked him in his arms, and Chase leaned into him. He sniffed, and it became clear that he was crying. Poor guy... he'd been through a lot, and although they'd never been close, Glenn wanted to be a shoulder to cry on for Chase. The kid needed someone like that.

He'd heard what happened between Chase and Arius. It made him almost as angry as it made Suko, but he kept his cool and tried to be diplomatic about it. He hadn't yet spoken to Arius about it, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to at all. Arius doing something like that and saying such things made him almost as bad as the guy he claimed to hate most... Glenn wondered if he knew that.

Hesitant footsteps approached from behind, and Glenn withdrew to look. It was Arius, speak of the devil, and he looked to be some semblance of guilty. He should be. "Hey, uh... Chase," he said awkwardly, hands hanging uselessly at his sides. Chase didn't look up, just fidgeted with the half-empty flask, turning it in his hands. This forced Arius to keep talking. "I fucked up really bad. And I feel like shit about it. I shouldn't have done any of the shit I did."

Still, Chase didn't say anything or look up. He seemed to have stopped crying, though, so that was progress. Glenn decided to leave them to it and went back to the dishes, though he kept a close eye on them. He knew Suko also must be watching, probably ready to step in and punch Arius dead in the face if he messed up.

"I don't know if there's anything I can do to fix that. You're really fucking tolerant, but I kinda feel like that was the last straw, or whatever metaphor you want to u-"

Chase had set down the flask, and he quickly stood up to grab Arius into a hug. At first, it looked like Arius was about to pull away, but after a second he sighed and wrapped his arms around the small of Chase's back. "I fucking hate that I love you," Chase said bitterly, voice muffled in Arius's shoulder. "I hate everything you do to me."

Glenn looked over his shoulder and he locked eyes with Suko. They looked like they were tearing up. He smiled lightly, hoping that they would take comfort in it. They seemed to. 

"Is that a... 'don't ever talk to me again' or 'we're cool'?" Arius asked nervously, though he was trying really hard to keep his calm. Chase grumbled incoherently, at least that's what it sounded like to Glenn, but Arius muttered something back.

Chase pulled away and walked toward the door. Arius paused to look at Suko, who just kind of glared half-heartedly. It was clear that they were somewhat proud of him but still plagued by the severity of the news he had delivered just a bit ago. Arius shrugged, looking more tired than anything, and followed Chase out of the apartment.

Suko wiped at their eyes. "We... we have to get Abel back, we can't pay that off," they said, sounding miserable. Glenn nodded, finishing up the dishes before drying his hands and going over to them. He grasped their hands firmly.

"Listen to me. He'll be okay. We'll contact the police with the new information. If we know he's... in... the human trafficking business, we have a better idea of... maybe where he is," said Glenn, trying to calm them down. "We have _eleven months._ That's a long time. We'll get him back. I _promise._ " Suko sniffed and nodded, standing up on their tiptoes to kiss him briefly. He kissed them back, sweet as he had always been. 

"I'm going to let them know what Ari told us," they sighed after they pulled away, and he hummed in response. He didn't want to let go of them but knew he had to. They retreated to the couch, pulling out their phone and dialing the number the police had given them. Glenn watched them for a moment, worried, but then continued his cleaning, finding a rag to wipe down the filthy counters.

His phone buzzed, and he finished up the counter he was on before taking it out of his pocket.

> **Grace:**
> 
> Hi, I thought we planned to meet today? The butterfly conservatory?

Glenn winced. He'd forgotten, in light of recent events. "Um, Suko," he started, scratching the back of his neck while looking up from his phone at them. "I had plans to meet a friend today. Would you be okay if I...? I could cancel if you need me." While Grace was a friend, she wasn't his best friend, and he was more than willing to leave her if Suko was vulnerable. Of course, he'd feel bad about it until the end of time, but... he had to have priorities, right?

They glanced up. "It's okay! Go ahead."

"No, if you need me here then I'll be here," he said firmly, already preparing to text Grace back to tell her that he had to cancel, but Suko shook their head, leaning forward from the couch.

"Seriously. Glenn. Go. I may be baby, but I can handle myself right now. I'll call you if I need you."

He sighed, pausing in his typing to look up again. They had their eyebrows risen in a challenging manner. They were stubborn, they had always been, and it was something that Glenn both admired and rolled his eyes at. "Are you certain?" he asked hesitantly. Suko nodded, exasperated. He breathed out a defeated 'okay' before texting Grace back.

> **Glenn:**
> 
> I'm so sorry!! Something happened this morning. I'll be there soon! '^^
> 
> **Grace:**
> 
> No worries! Cya

Before he left, he kissed Suko on the forehead. They smiled weakly at him, and he smiled back. Then he made sure he had his keys and headed down the stairs to his car. It was untouched, thankfully, so he got in and started it up. 

The conservatory was a fifteen-minute drive. He felt bad for making Grace wait longer than she had to, but she was generally a forgiving person. He wasn't sure about the other people in her body though.

Along the way, he really did try to enjoy the scenery. But he'd seen it a thousand times, and now it just looked dull, somewhat mocking. He wondered if Abel could see it wherever he was. Probably not. It was a depressing thought. Where the hell could he be?

He parked nicely when he arrived. He could see Grace in the entrance, waiting for him, and when he got out of his car he gave her a wave. She grinned widely and waved back, way more enthusiastically. When Glenn got in she hugged him tightly, though she was way shorter than him, which was somewhat endearing. Glenn's glasses fogged up so much that he couldn't see; this place was really humid. 

"Ready?" she asked after he had cleaned them. He offered her a grin to assure her that he was and that he was happy to be there. She grinned back, her twinkling eyes seeming to say the same thing.

They had been friends since college. At first, Glenn had tried to tell her that he was taken, thinking she was hitting on him, but he later found that she was just as affectionate with everyone. Hell, Glenn didn't know if she held any romantic or sexual attraction to anyone. It was comforting, in a sense, to know he had such a close but strictly platonic friend.

Together they entered the conservatory, and Grace paused to breathe in the clean, warm air. Butterflies fluttered about with vibrant wings, and when Glenn looked to his side he could practically _see_ Grace age sliding. Her eyes shone with wonder and adoration for the creatures. She bounced along the path to chase them. Glenn chuckled and hurried after her. "Slow down," he said lightheartedly, but she didn't hear him. She had a childlike amazement to her as she looked at all of the butterflies. More than once Glenn had to physically stop her from reaching out to grab one. 

"Hey, Gracie," he said, touching her arm lightly. She turned around to look at him, beaming. "I think... if you stand still, maybe a butterfly will land on you!" She gasped, and immediately stood stock-still in the middle of the path, puffing out her cheeks and holding her breath. He laughed. "Breathe, sweetheart," he reminded her, moving her off to the side. He prayed for a butterfly to land on her, as he didn't want to disappoint her, especially when she was little. 

After maybe twenty seconds, she started to frown. "Glenn... there's no butterflies," she pouted. He smiled reassuringly, holding up a finger to tell her to wait. He felt a little desperate, worried that he'd be letting her down. 

But apparently his hoping had been enough because a butterfly flitted by her face, then settled on her cheek. Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips hard, trying not to grin. Glenn smiled at her. "Can I take a picture?" he whispered. She gave the tiniest nod. Her breath was shaky, and he could tell it was hard for her not to explode with energy. So Glenn took out his phone and silently took a picture, reminding himself to send it to her later.

As he watched her stand as still as she could, more butterflies coming to land on her (much to her delight), he wondered how old she was at the moment. Earlier it seemed like seven, but with so many colorful insects on her, he could place his bets on four or five. The people around seemed confused at the apparent child in a woman's body, but he tried to just smile at them and get them to move along.

Grace tapped his arm, her voice sleepy and faint as she said, "Glenn... 'm going...." He put his hand over hers and replied with a simple 'okay.' Her eyes were closed, and she apologized quietly a few times. He assured her that it was okay. The butterflies were still on her, which was a pretty sight. He looked around at the well-maintained beauty of the conservatory as he waited for her to switch. It would be delightful working at a place like this, he thought.

The body beside him startled, and butterflies flapped away. He looked at them, smiling. "Hey," he said, though he wasn't sure who was out. Still, he tried to be as welcoming as possible. The body smiled uneasily, looking around.

"Where are we?" they said, voice rough and deeper than Grace's. 

"We're at a butterfly conservatory," he told them. "It's about noon on Sunday. We've been here for about ten minutes, and Grace was age sliding down. Can I ask who's out?"

The body nodded slowly, processing. They were still not entirely here. "It's Yagel. I don't think the body's eaten today... can we get lunch soon?" he asked. Glenn nodded, withdrawing his hand, because he knew Yagel didn't like touch. He glanced toward the exit. "Not yet. I want to look around," Yagel said when he saw where Glenn was looking.

Glenn hummed and waited for Yagel to move first. Yagel put his hair into a ponytail, zipped up his jacket, and started walking down the path, hands in his pockets as he admired the scenery. It wasn't a large conservatory, but he seemed to enjoy it all the same.

Yagel was Grace's system's primary protector. He loved every one of them dearly, but it was sometimes difficult when Grace switched in the middle of something. He knew Grace didn't like missing out on going places with friends, but she didn't have much of a choice.

They walked around together, Yagel pointing out some species he knew and Glenn asking questions about them. For the most part, they were quiet; Yagel was a quiet and stoic person altogether. They still enjoyed each other's company, though.

"Hey Glenn!" someone called. Glenn looked around until he saw Will tending to one of the garden areas. Glenn waved, and Will gave him a smile that lit up the world. He had that talent. Yagel turned around too, confused and mistrusting. 

Glenn approached Will, who was kneeling in the dirt. "How's it going? Do you work here?" he asked.

Will shrugged. "Going okay, I guess. And yeah! Just started working here a few weeks ago, actually," he answered, though visibly not as bubbly as usual. That was understandable, so Glenn didn't say anything about it. 

"How's your girlfriend?" 

At that, Will beamed. He looked so happy when Glenn brought her up. "Cecilia? She's marvelous... I think she'd get along with Marissa, but I haven't introduced them yet. I don't even know Marissa well... but yeah! She's doing amazing as always. The seer thing she's doing is bringing in more money than I thought it would. We're planning a trip to Europe too, there's this old mansion she wants to tour," he giggled. He stood up, dusting the dirt off his palms and knees. 

Glenn smiled at his enthusiasm. "Nice! We were-"

Will peered around him. "Oh hi Grace!"

"Uh- no, it's Yagel," said Yagel. One corner of his mouth was twitching like he was trying to smile but ended up frowning. "I don't think we've met." Will took a moment to process, then grinned widely and stepped down onto the path, offering a hand. Yagel didn't shake it, leaving Will standing there awkwardly with his hand extended for a few moments. He let it fall and laughed nervously, wiping his hand on his jeans. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. Hi! Guess we haven't met before, huh?" he rambled, face getting redder as he spoke.

"Hey. It's fine."

They stared at each other.

"Anyway... we were going to get lunch. I don't suppose you're free?" Glenn continued, trying to clear the tension. Will shook his head, but then held up a finger dramatically and looked around before leaning over a flowerbed to grab a blue iris.

Handing it to Glenn, he said, "Give this to Suko for me, please? They'll know what it means." He winked. Glenn nodded, carefully tucking it into his jacket out of sight. He didn't feel good about taking a flower from the conservatory, but he didn't want to offend Will. 

Yagel started heading for the exit, slouched. "Oh, uh... bye Will! Say hi to Cecilia for me!" Glenn said hurriedly, giving him a wave before going after Yagel. Will smiled and waved back.

"I don't like him," Yagel muttered once they were out.

"I know," Glenn sighed. "You don't like anyone. What do you want to eat?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't related to the did drama, but i have a group of characters so i put them all into one body lmao


	21. this world is not made for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel's forced to confront his buyers and doesn't enjoy the experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: nonconsensual touch, mentions of self-harm  
> stay safe <3

It was the second of April. He knew that because he had been keeping track, marking off a day on the calendar every time the sun settled snugly on the horizon. 

Two months since he'd seen anyone but his captor. It was surreal, but he'd been grasping the pattern of day-to-day life as someone being held for ransom or whatever. It was a monotonous life and he wasn't enjoying a single moment of it. But it was tolerable.

He had two new tallies on his hand, totaling up to eight. Two more and the upcoming tallies would be cut into the back of his hand, which he wasn't looking forward to. Each time had been an irrational and emotional lash-out. He'd come to understand that the pain was what he deserved for those things, after being told so over and over. He'd also learned that apologizing and ceasing movement could earn him another chance. It was strange, but he started to think of Damien as being merciful, compared to what he had been when Abel had first... arrived.

He'd been practicing his drawing a lot because he had all the time in the world. He was getting better. Lately, his passion had been for animals. He missed seeing them. Sometimes there were birds, squirrels, and rabbits outside, but he missed Mari's cats and the dogs he'd see being walked when he peered from the apartment window. Now he couldn't see any cats or dogs. Though he never said anything about it, he'd been drawing them a lot and imagining the feel of their fur. And clearly, Damien didn't have pets, because he was always spotless. It was probably best that he didn't, considering his complete lack of humanity.

The best thing that had happened recently was more freedom. He could now shower and clothe himself. There were specific conditions he had to follow, however, including telling Damien when he was going to do so, not hurting himself (though Abel had no desire to), not trying to bar the door (the lock had been busted), and keeping the bathroom pristine. An easy enough price to pay for more privacy.

Anyway, April second. He stood in front of the window, still barely out of reach, and he didn't even have the privilege to rest his fingertips against the glass. He knew it must be getting warmer outside, but couldn't feel it. It wasn't fair....

Still, the outside was beautiful, even if he couldn't see much of it. The grass looked soft, and the trees' leaves were vibrant and alive as they swayed in the breeze. The sky was cloudy today, but that was alright. There was some comfort in its soft gray blankets. Maybe it would rain soon- that would be nice. If only he could feel it. 

The rare peaceful trance was interrupted by voices. Voices, _plural_. His heartbeat spiked at the notion of rescue. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could recognize that one of the voices belonged to Damien, baritone and flowing as always. Then he laughed, a laugh Abel had come to hate with a passion, and their voices drew closer. He backed up, but couldn't reach the corner with the restraints he had still attached to him. They were a hassle to live with, to say the least.

By the time he got his back to a wall, the voices had paused just outside the door. Abel's heart beat faster and faster, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. Were these people going to help him? They _had_ to, not everyone could be as sick and-

The door opened. In came a well-off couple, followed by, of course, Damien himself. And they were _not_ here to help him.

While the woman (probably twenty years younger than her partner) gawked at Abel, who noted her jewelry and excessive makeup, Damien began to speak to the man. The man _looked_ like a mobster, or a trafficker, or generally someone involved in illegal business. He fit the role so well with his black biker jacket, balding head, ugly mustache, sunglasses, and a lit blunt hanging between his lips. He stood tall, chest out like he owned the place, but there was some fat building on his belly that made him look like someone's weird uncle. Abel took an immediate disliking to him.

"He learns quickly and will proceed to do so until you decide the time is right," Damien was saying, like he was presenting some dog. "He is subdued and cooperative, with easily locatable weak points and, well... seems to find it difficult to hide his arousal given the right circumstance. He apologizes when he violates a rule. He breaks and gives in very easily to pain...." 

His blood was boiling. How _dare_ this bastard speak about him like he was an animal. It was disgusting, and he felt the urge to vomit on that pristine suit of Damien's. He wanted to wipe the smug smile right off his face.

Abel silently clenched his fists, physically trembling from the anger he was trying to contain. He looked pointedly down at the floor and in his head began to count backward from one hundred, focusing on the numbers and his breathing rather than that... that _vile_ man.

What broke him out of it was a harsh, loud use of his name. His head snapped up and he looked at the source, which was, obviously, his captor. Damien repeated himself, "Come here." In response, Abel's legs decided to freeze themselves and he tried to stutter out something but didn't get past a few syllables. He himself didn't even know what he was trying to say. He just... didn't want to move.

It was fear, he realized, rooting him to the ground and making his heart pound so hard that it hurt. Going to Damien voluntarily was an awful act of weakness, and Abel felt ashamed to even think about making the choice to walk near that monster.

"Now." It was cold and sharp. He didn't raise his voice, but Abel heard it ringing in his ears all the same. When he met Damien's eyes he remembered the deal they had, how Arius could be hurt if he disrespected Damien, how seriously the bastard had promised to do so. With Arius's safety in mind, he began to shuffle forward on autopilot. His cheeks burned and he tried to look anywhere except at the people in the room. Damien disregarded his attempts by seizing his chin and forcing him to look up, meeting his kidnapper's dark, soulless eyes. "Good, but your hesitation will have its consequences," he growled, leaving it up to interpretation.

Abel tried not to say anything. He really did. But it slipped out anyway. "If you lay a hand on him-"

He reeled back from the slap, cheek stinging. He'd made a mistake. An apology tumbled from his lips, and he looked down at the floor, still burning with anger but wisely keeping it in this time. Without skipping a beat, Damien said to the couple, "He is not yet perfect nor complete, but I will have him ready for you."

The older man nodded appreciatively. "You never disappoint, kid," he said, then looked closely at Abel. "Is he healthy?"

 _Do I fucking look healthy to you?!_ Abel wanted to scream. He was underweight by a longshot and bruised badly in multiple places. Not to mention he could barely use his hand.

"See for yourself," Damien said, putting a key from his pocket to unlock the chains around his wrists. They fell to the floor with a loud clinking noise that made Abel flinch. He rubbed his raw wrists, not taking the moment for granted.

That was until Damien demanded, "Take off your shirt." Once again Abel froze. He... couldn't. There was no way his muscles would move voluntarily to expose himself like that. This was different from just walking closer, this felt impossible. He was... really damn scared. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't move, paralyzed beneath three sets of hard gazes. He anxiously rubbed his raw wrists, opening his mouth to

"I-I can't... I..." he said weakly, but it was no excuse.

Damien narrowed his eyes. "Your brother will have something to show the next time he steps outside. Is that what you want?"

"No!" Abel cried out, helpless, his eyes wide with fear. It was all too much. One more push and he knew he'd either shut down or have a panic attack. The couple was scrutinizing him, and the man looked at Damien with a tinge of disappointment.

"Then redeem yourself."

His fingers fidgeted at the hem of his shirt, uncertain. He didn't anticipate it being this difficult to move his arms. It felt like he was moving underwater. He slowly pulled off the t-shirt he was wearing, hugging it to his chest self consciously. Damien didn't even ask him to drop it, he just reached forward and took the shirt from him. Abel whimpered, crossing his arms over his pale, freckled torso. The air felt cold against his skin, and he felt so exposed in front of them, being watched like an animal putting on a show. His heart pounded so loudly that he felt his eardrums would pop.

"He's so skinny. Is he fed regularly?" said the woman, a little concerned.

Tears were already brimming in his eyes, but when Damien set his shirt aside and moved behind Abel to pull his arms back, they began to fall. He didn't say anything, he _couldn't_ say anything, but Damien had already anticipated what hit him next. 

Abel stumbled backward, his head dropping and chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. All he could think of was how he was trapped here, bearing his ugly bruised torso to two twisted strangers. He was so overwhelmed.

Damien, however, caught him, holding him mostly upright even when his knees buckled. He was saying something, but not to Abel, seeming to completely ignore what Abel was going through. The blurry faces of the strangers seemed annoyed, but he couldn't really tell. The man was speaking too, but his words sounded jumbled and distant. It didn't really matter to Abel, at least not at the moment, because he was on the verge of passing out. He couldn't _breathe,_ he couldn't even see through the tears.

He was faintly aware of his arm being held out, and someone pinching his skin in different places. Though it was uncomfortable and contributed to the ongoing panic attack, he tried to focus on them and nothing else to ground himself. If he just ignored the context, maybe he could tolerate it. So he did, focusing on the pinches; on his bicep, his forearm, his side, his neck. And slowly he came back to the present.

"...purposes of vulnerability, but he will soon be able to gain weight, yes. As for the anxiety, it is important to take advantage of him in that way, but as you can see, it is something that needs to be worked on. If you plan on making your purchase in June at the latest, his training will be much more thorough. He will most certainly be ready by then."

"And sexual encounters?" asked the young woman. Her smile was revolting, and her words made Abel sick. He started to shake again, taking an uneasy step back. He found himself backed against Damien, who chuckled and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him there. 

"We will get to that. Trust me, he will learn to love it." And a hand went up to run through his hair. Abel struggled, kicking at Damien's legs, but it was no use. He was still weak and exhausted. Above all, he was horrified. Sure, Damien teased him, but that just seemed to be part of his personality- but now he had _intentions_ to... to... god, he didn't even want to think about it.

The woman looked pleased with the answer, and the man shrugged. "I don't get your kink for taking innocence," he said, and Damien chuckled quietly again. He didn't reply to that, but he didn't need to. Abel was already crying again.

They began to discuss the price. Abel didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to know how much people were paying for his agony. From the few numbers he heard, he knew it was lower than the ransom. Bullshit.

His mind started to wander when he ignored what they were saying. He _still_ couldn't believe he'd gotten himself in this situation. When he was younger, he was sure that he wouldn't live past his teens. Even when he surpassed his teens, he was sure that he would live a short, unremarkable life. Now he had been kidnapped by an awfully attractive bastard and was being abused and sold. What the fuck had he done to deserve this? In general, _what the fuck?_

He pondered that until Damien's hand brushed his neck, moving across his right collarbone slowly. Abel jumped, and again tried to squirm away, but he wasn't allowed to. Damien was still talking to the couple, not entirely focused on Abel, so the motions seemed absentminded. Still, Abel had known Damien long enough to know that everything he did was intentional and _everything_ was backed up by motivation and expected results. He wasn't a fan of whatever intent the bastard had now. 

"How many do you have now?" Damien asked the guy, seeming... amused. Abel could only assume he was talking about the... people he must own. That was just sick.

"Only two left, actually. Although one might have to be disposed of... she's been lacking usefulness lately," the man said offhandedly, making Abel scrunch up his nose in disgust. He couldn't get over how casually they talked about shit like this. 

"Not the one I gave you, I hope?"

"Oh, no. She's still quite devoted, obedient... as always. I question your practices, but they clearly work better than the practices of anyone else I've purchased from. Though you've learned from some... _fatal_ mistakes, haven't you?" He gave a deep laugh, which sounded more threatening and condescending than friendly. It wasn't too different from Damien's laughter. It seemed mocking, though, which Abel kind of winced at because, surely, Damien would be furious at being criticized. Maybe it'd be balanced out by the compliment.

In a way he was right, but Damien kept his cool, at least in his voice. "Yes, I suppose so. Matters of circumstance. They are off the record," he replied rather shortly. "I would rather not have those cases elaborated on. This one doesn't need to worry his pretty little head about it, agreed?" There was an edge to his voice now. The woman looked between the two men, unsure. Even Abel was unsure of whether they were about to throw punches, and he didn't like being between them. 

"Yeah, alright. See you soon. And careful with your temper, kid, clients don't take well to that. Lucky I've known you long enough to tolerate you," said the buyer, smirking. Because his back was pressed against Damien's chest, Abel could feel him take a deep breath and let it out, slowly. Trying to calm down. Abel could relate to that, and it was kind of comforting to know Damien struggled with self-control as well. It was also scary.

"I will try. Thank you."

The man laughed. "I suppose you want me to show myself out?"

"Actually, I will accompany you to the door. You are aware of... yes. Well. Let us go," Damien said briskly, finally letting go of Abel and walking around him. At last able to, Abel hugged himself, trying desperately to cover the exposed skin of his chest. There wasn't even much hair to hide it. He'd been shaving, and besides, he'd never been able to grow chest hair like Ari. It was a point of mocking between them. Man, he missed that. To think he used to hate his brother.

As soon as all of them were out of sight, Abel made a dash for the dresser. He pulled it open and grabbed the first shirt he saw. He heard a door open and shut, and assumed it was the front door. He hurriedly pulled on the shirt and turned around to realize that the door of the room was open. Curiosity filled him as he went as close to the door as he could with the chains still on his ankles. There he could look out into another part of the house. His room was at the end of a hallway, accompanied by a few other doors. Down the hallway, he could see a bigger area, including a kitchen if he strained his neck. It was free of any clutter, just as neat and depressing as the room Abel was kept in.

Damien appeared at the end of the hallway, his eyes on the ceiling as he fixed his hair, slowly making his way back toward the room. His gaze drifted down until it landed on Abel. Abel flinched and scrambled back, landing on his ass and wrapping his arms around himself. 

"Did I say you could put a shirt on, Abel?"

He stood in the doorway now, leaning against the frame with crossed arms. Abel slowly shook his head. "Sorry, I just- it's so uncomfortable, and I thought since they were gone-" he stammered, then cut himself off as Damien approached him. He tried not to move, but he was shaking, and he automatically pushed himself back into a wall again. He was making it all the more convenient for his kidnapper, but he felt even less secure when he didn't have his back to a wall.

"I do not care if you are uncomfortable. You remain the way you are until given explicit permission, do you understand?" He prowled forward, towering over Abel's small form now.

"Yeah- yeah I get it."

"Try that again," Damien snapped. 

He recoiled, struggling to muster up enough willpower to say what he had to. "Y-Yes, I understand, I'm sorry," he tried. Damien nodded once, his way of showing reluctant approval. He offered a hand, which Abel stared at for a good five seconds before raising a shaky hand to grasp it. Damien pulled him to his feet but didn't let go, instead dragging him along to the bathroom.

"N-No! Wait, _please-_ I didn't do anything!" Abel protested immediately, and Damien stopped to glare at him. "O-Okay, maybe that's a lie, but I-I mostly did what you asked, I know what I fucked up on, please don't-"

Damien ignored him then and proceeded to pull him into the bathroom and unwrap the bandages on Abel's hand. Abel, in turn, squeezed his eyes shut and waited. It wasn't as painful as the first time, but it still made him tear up. Damien made a point to cut slower. Abel whimpered and turned his head to instinctively bury his face in Damien's shoulder. He wasn't pushed away. 

When it was over Damien disinfected the cuts (he'd finished off the tallies on Abel's palm by cutting two lines), making Abel squirm in pain, and replaced the bandages with clean ones. He was a bitch, but at least he wouldn't let it get infected. 

"I've got a lot of fu- I have questions," Abel said, correcting himself, as he watched Damien clean the blade.

"I know," he answered. "You have not earned the answers to those questions."

Abel furrowed his eyebrows in frustration but didn't push it. "Fine. Can I lie down?" 

"Yes. If you behave like that again in front of a client, there will be much worse consequences. You are lucky." Abel nodded, relieved that he hadn't been hurt beyond the tallies. He'd expected worse, but he wasn't going to tempt the shithead. Damien had been merciful this time, but another slip-up and Abel was sure he'd be in huge trouble.

He laid down on the bed and pulled the blanket over him, curling up. He hated feeling exposed, as was evident. So it was nice to be under a blanket. He still didn't feel safe, not with Damien in the room, but it was... better.

He'd closed his eyes by the time the bed dipped. Abel's eyes shot open and he tensed up. Damien pushed him flat onto his back and held him down, of course straddling him, as that seemed to be his favorite way to restrain someone. It was awfully sexually suggestive, but then again, everything Damien did was like that. Abel wanted to spit out, _what do you want now?_ But he thought better of it. He stayed quiet.

"Every time I think you are making progress, you lash out and disobey me again. If you do not fix that, I will be forced to make the rest of your time with me much more difficult for you. Is that something you want?"

Abel shook his head, uneasy. If he didn't get out by the time _that_ happened, well... he wouldn't want things to be more painful than necessary. Truth be told, he was terrified, as any normal person should be. Especially because he _knew_ those weren't empty threats. Damien didn't make empty threats. 

"Very good," he purred, then paused and smirked as Abel's face flushed pink. "Quite a few of my items have praise kinks. I find it adorable." Abel scrunched his nose in response, turning his head to look out at the room as he tried to distract himself. He didn't like being an _item._

That worked until Damien's hands slid up Abel's shirt, mapping out the subtle curves of his body and the placement of his ribs at a painfully slow pace. Abel squirmed, ticklish and uncomfortable. "P-Please stop," he begged, his own hands reaching up to push at Damien's arms. Damien didn't exactly stop, but his hands came to a halt on the sides of Abel's waist. 

"First of all, love, you need permission to touch me. Second, you have not earned yourself the right to ask me to stop. Pleading with me is lovely and though I do adore the sound, it only makes me want to do more," he replied coldly, squeezing his waist before returning to his intrusive exploration of Abel's torso. Abel dropped his hands and covered his burning face with them.

"W-Why- why are you doing this? Did y-you do this to everyone?" he tried to ask, and it came out muffled. 

He could see Damien smile when he peeked between his fingers, feeling like a child. "I did, yes. Finding weak points in the body is hardly an enigma, and proves to be very useful. Besides the logistics of it, I love seeing you like this, and you must learn your place. I find that humiliation is an effective way to teach people such," Damien answered. He punctuated his point by running a few fingers down the center of Abel's torso, making him shiver and squirm beneath the touch. 

Seeing this as an opportunity get answers, Abel managed to stammer, "A-And what about- the... the... sexual. Stuff. I don't... I can't do that, I... p-please, I'll d-do anything else, but I can't... it's... so violating, I...."

Damien snickered, which felt more offensive than any words he could say in response. "You have no sympathy to gain from me, darling. You cannot make a deal with the devil to avoid something the devil wants more than anything else you can offer," he drawled, and Abel was torn between flushing and paling. Anticipating his fear, Damien smugly rested a hand over Abel's heart and undoubtedly felt it speed up.

As much as he hated the violation of his privacy, the touch was kind of nice. Damien's hands were warm and practiced, and surprisingly gentle. They were firm enough to assert his superiority and reinforce what Abel already knew, but altogether the touches were softer than he expected. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like this, so eager to know every detail and curve of his body.

He blinked, trying to get rid of those feelings. The obligatory disgust took its place in the forefront of his mind and he tried to ignore the thoroughness with which Damien was examining his chest, just with his hands, as he had the mercy not to remove Abel's shirt. Somehow he suspected that kind of mercy wouldn't last long.

Finally, Damien withdrew, smoothing the shirt comfortably over Abel's stomach and looking down at him expectantly. Abel was relieved, taking one hand away from his face to rest it on his stomach, holding on loosely to the fabric of his shirt like it could crumble at any moment and leave him exposed again. 

"C-Can... can I please rest now?" Abel dared to ask timidly. Damien didn't verbally answer, but he brushed the hair from Abel's face, smoothing it back from his forehead. Abel stayed still, trying to tolerate it. But when Damien's hands moved to his neck, toward his collarbone again, Abel panicked and without a second thought said, "Damien, p-please."

The use of his name did catch Damien's attention. He smiled slightly and withdrew his hands. "I will let you rest for today since you asked so politely. Do not forget your place," he agreed. Abel nodded, visibly relaxing as Damien got off of him and made for the door.

Thank fuck that was over.

But he knew that wouldn't be the end of it. He had deserved whatever that was, and he deserved worse.

And it still hung over him, the knowledge that Arius would be hurt for Abel's earlier actions. He kept telling himself to just shut up and do what he was told to avoid bringing harm to anyone, but in the heat of emotion and anger, it was difficult to remember that. He turned onto his side and curled up, pulling the blanket back up to his chin and squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't want to think. 

Didn't want to think... he could see why the no self-harm rule was put in place now, as much as he hated to admit it. He did his best to ignore the temptation of the blade and tried to sleep.

Yet, even the world of his dreams was plagued by the horror of his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAnhhhhhhhh that was uncomfortable. this part of the story is gonna be a rough ride for all of us, hang in there, it has a good ending. i love my boy and he deserves better,,, pray for that boy


	22. let's dance when we're not supposed to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we gain insight on the relationship between damien and arius in high school
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for lots of mentions of sex, and one mention of self harm shortly after they get to arius's house. stay safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments rlly make my whole week... u know who u are
> 
> also i ask you not only to stay safe and clean sanitation-wise but i quite recently broke and i'm no longer clean of that shit we depressed folks do. it's not fun. so yeah, please take care of yourself and i'll try to do the same <3

__

_"Chase, I swear to god-"_

_Chase stuck out his tongue, which might have been irritating, but Arius had grown used to how childish the seventeen-year-old acted. He punched Chase lightly in the shoulder, who giggled, tongue still caught between his teeth. He looked dumb. He always looked dumb. But he was pretty too._

_"So are you? Nerd?" Chase teased, looking up at him from beneath the brim of his stupid baseball cap. He acted like he wasn't also there for the play. Hell, everyone was there for the play, mostly because the school's fucktoy was in it._

_"Yeah, okay, fine. I'm here for the stupid play," Arius muttered, stopping at the school doors to cross his arms. "Got a problem?" The younger giggled again, and Arius realized that he was buzzed. That made more sense._

_"Naw," said Chase, opening the door and gesturing for Arius to enter first, "just didn't take you for someone who would."_

_He muttered incomprehensibly, annoyed, and walked in. He didn't return the favor of opening the door for Chase. He cared about the kid a little, sure, but Chase was more of a nuisance that wouldn't leave him alone. Usually, people fucked off when Arius told them to, but not this guy. It was a bit endearing, but also irritating as hell._

_They individually paid their way into the school's shitty theater department and found seats. Chase sat a little too close, scooted to the edge of his seat, but Arius found himself not minding. It wasn't like his "boyfriend" was around anyway. And it wasn't like they had an agreement to stay loyal. It was kind of the opposite, actually, and it was pretty dumb in Arius's opinion, but... not the time to be thinking too deeply about it._

_Chase chatted up a storm about whatever video games he was into now, but Arius's attention was fixed on empty air. He was only here for one reason, he was already desperate to have this shit end. He'd been promised. If that douchebag broke his promise...._

_The lights dimmed and Chase went quiet, answering his prayers. Arius slouched back into his seat, staring up at the dark ceiling while he waited for something to happen. The crowd was still quietly murmuring. He wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up._

_The play started. He didn't pay attention to it, not until Damien was on stage, figuratively dancing his way through the role. He was easily the most convincing actor up there, and_ fuck, _did his voice sound good on a microphone. Arius watched him intently; he enjoyed watching Damien. He was beautiful and talented and graceful, everything anyone could ask for visually. Arius was sure that he wasn't the only one staring openly at Damien, and that was an annoying thought, so he banished it from his head and just... watched._

_He'd fallen asleep by the time the lights came back on for intermission. Chase was shaking his shoulder, making his head loll forward and back. When Arius came to, he slapped Chase's hand away and growled. "Morning, sunshine! It's now Saturday, we're in New York, and-"_

_"Shut the fuck up, what's going on?" he grumbled, and Chase grinned. He made the motion of zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key behind him. Arius groaned. Did this kid have a single working brain cell? "Chaaaase, you know what I meant."_

_He grinned wider. "It's intermission. Wanna maybe get like... coke?"_

_"What kind of coke?"_

_Chase giggled and stood up, offering a hand. Arius took it without thinking and pulled himself up. He tried to ignore how red Chase's face got when he did. Chase followed him out of the theater and into the main part of the school. They were about to head to the bathroom in a unanimous decision to smoke, but Arius's phone buzzed. He stopped, immediately taking it out. Very few texted him regularly._

> _**Damien:** _
> 
> _East doors._

_The east doors were the closest. Arius immediately switched directions, walking quickly to the east. Chase hurried to catch up with him. "Arius, where-" he tried to ask, but Arius cut him off._

_"Need to meet with somebody. Go fuck yourself somewhere or whatever." Maybe that was a little harsh, seeing as Chase flinched, but it was his usual way of speaking. Chase should know that by now._

_"Ah... right. Damien. Kinda forgot you two were... a thing." He looked disappointed. Arius gave him a weird look and walked off, leaving the kid to stand there awkwardly, hands in his pockets._

_He didn't look back. Arius went through the east doors and found Damien outside, somehow already out of costume and back in his regular oddly formal outfit. He was weird, but suits looked good on him, so whatever._

_"Hey, bitch," Arius greeted him, leaning against the cool brick wall beside him. He didn't get a response. He noticed that Damien was smoking and held out a few fingers to signify that he wanted to take a drag. Damien raised an eyebrow. Arius raised an eyebrow right back. Of course, the bastard wouldn't give anything away for free._

_When Damien pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and exhaled smoke into the evening air, Arius took the chance to kiss him, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him forward. Damien settled into it very easily, and when they pulled away for breath, Damien handed him the cigarette. Arius smirked and took it between two fingers._

_"You're still holding up your end of the deal, right?" he inquired, taking a long drag afterward._

_"Have I ever given you a reason to doubt that?"_

_Arius snorted. "Yup," he said matter-of-factly. "Have you ever given me a reason to trust you at all?"_

_"Yes. Stop being such a brat," Damien replied coldly. He looked away from Arius and up at the darkening sky, pushing his hair away from his face to see it better. Arius admired how he looked for a moment, beautiful, thoughtful, unconcerned. Man, his mood shifted fast. Arius doubted he was taking his medicine, but he didn't really care, because Damien was much less fun to toy with when he was actually levelheaded._

_As the devilish little shit he was, Arius took a drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke right toward Damien. Damien grimaced, moving out of the way of the smoke's path and clearly struggling not to react or cough. Arius smirked again, earning him a disdainful look. "I like you better in bed," Damien sighed._

_"Honestly, same. You're a bastard when I actually have to talk to you," Arius agreed. The other didn't grace him with a response. They remained there for maybe a minute more, staring off at the sunset, just the tiniest bit of peace between them. Then Damien began walking toward the doors without a word._

_Arius pushed himself off the wall and caught up to Damien, grabbing his hand. Damien stopped at that and looked back, exasperated. "Can you not wait?" he snapped. Arius snickered, and then dragged him into another kiss. This one was longer. Arius knew Damien couldn't resist, and he smirked against the kiss when he felt Damien pushing him back until he hit the wall._

_"And you say you have self-control," he said breathily as he tilted his head up, Damien's lips moving to his neck._

_"Shut it," was the hissed response. "Why do you talk so much when we do this?" Arius laughed, draping his arms over Damien's shoulders and closing his eyes, enjoying himself. His arms tightened when Damien bit down, not gentle but not hard enough to draw blood. Enough to leave a bruise, for sure, and Arius liked that. Damien knew he did._

_When Arius's hands meandered their way down to the hem of Damien's shirt, he pulled away. His lips were slightly reddened, which was, of course, a good look on him, but otherwise, he looked totally unaffected. Arius, on the other hand, was flushed and busy catching his breath. He reached up and touched the newly forming hickey, right where his neck met his shoulder. "You goddamn tease," he muttered as Damien left him and headed for the doors again. Once again, Damien didn't say anything, didn't even look back. "Oh come on!" Arius protested, but the door was already swinging shut behind him._

_So without much of a choice, Arius returned to the theater. Chase was already there, sitting in his seat with his knees up, playing a game on his phone. He didn't say a word when Arius sat down. He even looked a little soberer._

_"You good?" Arius asked tentatively. He tried to sound bored, not even looking at Chase. He felt kind of like an asshole._

_Chase snorted, but there was no humor in it. "Do you even care?"_

_Now that was something Arius had to think about it. Did he care? No, not really, at least that was what he'd told himself. But at the same time, he didn't like it when Chase was so quiet and obviously miserable. It rubbed off on Arius. He didn't count himself as an empathetic person, but there were some people... well, he... yes, he did care. For once, he cared._

_But apparently he hadn't answered soon enough. Chase looked up from his phone, directly at Arius, and continued on, "Do you think I'm fucking mindless? That I don't notice how you never return any favor I do for you, and you always treat me like shit, and you only hang out with me until your fucktoy comes along? I'm stupid, Arius, but I'm not_ that _stupid. Ever wonder why I'm always drunk or high? No. You've never asked, it probably never crossed your mind, and no, you're not getting a fucking answer, even if by chance you wanted one. It's very clear what you think of me."_

_Then he stood up and stormed out, leaving Arius speechless. He quickly got up to follow, but the lights dimmed and Arius slowly sunk back into his seat. If he didn't feel like an asshole before, then he definitely did now._

_He couldn't pay attention to the play, even if he wanted to. He stared blankly at the stage, at the changing lights and the shifts in the set. The only thing that caught his attention was Damien. He tried to focus on the plans they had tonight, rather than Chase. The way Arius knew his skin felt, warm and rough with scars, slick with sweat. His hair, tickling Arius's skin, hanging over his eye. His lips, perfect and skilled, knowing just how to smile and scowl and kiss. Damien in his entirety was beautiful._

_As long as he thought about that, he could keep Chase out of his mind, and time seemed to pass faster. He ended up half asleep by the time the lights came back on, but the buzzing of his phone woke him up._

> _**Damien:** _
> 
> _Ten minutes._

_Arius just sighed, pushing himself up from the folding seat and stumbling out of the theater, rubbing his eyes. Drama of all kinds truly bored him. He found a table and sat down, texting Damien back._

> **_Arius:_ **
> 
> _sure shithead ur place or mine_
> 
> _**Damien:** _
> 
> _Yours. I do not feel like going home tonight._
> 
> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _daddy issues??_
> 
> _**Damien:** _
> 
> _No._
> 
> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _lmao sure also please fucking talk like a normal person for once_
> 
> _**Damien:** _
> 
> _How do you mean?_
> 
> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _i_
> 
> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _i have given up_

_He set down his phone and drummed his fingers on the table, already tired of waiting. Hadn't he waited long enough already? This better be good, he did_ not _sit through an entire play just to get mediocre sex. He wasn't that desperate, surely._

_After a few seconds, he'd grown too bored to keep sitting there doing nothing. He picked up his phone again and found Chase's contact._

> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _i do care_
> 
> _**Arius:** _
> 
> _a little_

_He cursed himself for adding that second part. His fucking pride always got in the way. He slumped, not even bothering to fix it because apparently all of his relations were destined to fall apart. He always fucked it up._

_Arius put his head down and closed his eyes._

_Some short time later, he felt a kiss at his temple. He opened his eyes to see Damien out of the corner of his eye, waiting not so patiently. "Hey asshat," Arius sighed, slowly lifting his head. Damien didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting, per usual, but Arius knew he hated the continuous insults. He swung his legs to the side and got up from the chair, adjusting the jacket over his shoulders._

_They didn't say anything else to each other, just walked out into the fresh evening air. The stars were shrouded behind clouds, dimming the world just a little. "Do you want me to compliment your performance?" Arius asked dryly, trying to fill the silence._

_"That would not benefit either of us."_

_"Just sayin'. You looked hot as fuck," he said, then snickered. Damien let out a breath that could have been laughter, or maybe a disappointed sigh. Both made sense._

_They got to Damien's car, Arius taking shotgun and Damien getting into the driver's seat. Arius leaned back, kicking his feet up on the dashboard. Damien froze, the key not even in the ignition. "Arius," he warned, and Arius knew he was in trouble because Damien rarely said his name. He smiled cockily even so, because that was his thing. He was an ass._

_"Gonna attack me with your keys?" he giggled. He knew that if he riled Damien up enough, tonight would be much more interesting. And after the certainly not interesting few hours he had just sat through, he needed that. He needed a real release._

_"Put your fucking feet down or nothing happens tonight."_

_Ah._

_It seemed that Damien had learned what buttons to push. Took him long enough. He also rarely swore, at least he rarely swore profusely. So that was interesting. Arius pouted and put his feet down, only to shift his legs onto Damien's lap._

_"Arius," Damien repeated, his voice getting quieter. That was... a bad thing._

_"Come on, coward. You know better than anyone that things can be washed."_

_"Shut the fuck up and obey me."_

_Arius actually laughed at that one. "Kinky."_ _He did, however, put his legs down and where they belonged. He might joke about Damien having no self-control when it came to sex, but he had a damn lot of it when he wanted to, and Arius didn't have a doubt that he'd follow up on his threat. Or at least, he'd call someone else. That was a worse alternative._

_Damien gave him a warning glare and brushed off the bit of dirt left on his pants. He started the car and they began their journey to Arius's house in relative silence. Arius made a point of staring at Damien the entire way. Unlike other people, it didn't make Damien uncomfortable (because he was an egotistical prick) but he did take notice. "Are you that desperate?"_

_"Maybe," Arius replied vaguely, giving Damien a shit-eating grin. Damien just sighed and kept his eyes on the road._

_After a minute, Damien spoke up, "What if I simply dropped you off and went home? All of this buildup just for you to have no choice but to jack off in your room to the thought of someone who didn't want you tonight."_

_Now_ that _got his blood boiling. "Not going to happen. Besides, don't pretend you'd also have to jack off, probably to the idea that you're a bitch. Does being such an asshole turn you on?" Arius snapped. Damien chuckled, not providing him an answer. So he continued, "Don't even fantasize, we're gonna fuck and that's that. I didn't go to your stupid play just to be cockblocked by your pride."_

_"Frustrated?" The amusement in his tone was infuriating._

_"If you keep this shit up we're gonna see if you have a choking kink."_

_He was pretty proud of that one. It cast the rest of the ride in silence. When the car slowed by the curb outside Arius's house, they looked at each other. Arius rose an eyebrow. Damien's mouth twitched, a brief and irritated curl of his upper lip. "So?" he said, sounding condescending._

_"Either we go inside or I'm fucking you in this car," Arius replied, smirking._

_Damien rolled his eyes. "First of all, you could not top me if you tried. Second, this car is cramped. And third, we are_ not _doing it in my car."_

_"So we're going inside," he said, then registered the first point a few moments later. "Hey! I've topped you! You're just too ashamed to admit it!"_

_He didn't respond to that. Arius felt pretty victorious, to be honest. Damien got out of the car and Arius quickly followed suit, walking up the path to the house. His partner locked the car and caught up to him, taking Arius's hand in his own and dragging him faster toward the door. He was impatient to prove that Arius couldn't top him, obviously, and it was reasonably hilarious._

_Arius unlocked the door with his house key and let Damien pull him in, closing the door behind them. He could tell that Damien was tempted to just push him against the wall and destroy him right there, but Arius continued to his room, forcing Damien to walk after him._

_They passed Abel's room. Arius stopped for a second. Abel slowly and weakly lifted his head to meet his conflicting gaze. There was his little brother, slumped against the bed, vomit on his chin, shirt, and lap. Arius could see maybe three bottles of unknown alcohol strewn close to him, all empty. He was bleeding from short, messy slashes on the arms. The worst part was knowing that Abel did all of this to himself._

_Abel didn't say anything, and neither did Arius. Damien barely paused to give Abel a glance, simply taking Arius's hand again and pulling him down the hallway. Arius let himself be pulled away, but Abel's hauntingly empty eyes remained at the forefront of his mind._

_The bedroom door shut behind them and Damien pushed him roughly onto the bed, hovering over him. He seemed to pause for a moment, like maybe he was asking for consent, but Damien never asked for consent. Which was. Well. Illegal. But being Damien meant living above the law, apparently... if he could get away with selling drugs and sex, then he could get away with whatever._

_Arius took the chance to say, "I don't know if... tonight... maybe I should make sure... Abel doesn't... do anything? I feel like we shouldn't be... doing this. By him. When he's... like that."_

_"I could not care less," Damien replied flatly, as Arius expected him to._

_So, like the awful person he was, Arius just sighed and went with it. He should have put up more fight, he should have checked on Abel, but instead, he was bringing Damien into a kiss and letting himself be pushed down against the bed. He'd been waiting for this all evening, after all, and his brother's emotional problems shouldn't intrude on that. Right? The least he could do was put it out of his mind and focus on- "Oh fuck," Arius breathed, arching his back to press himself closer to his partner's body. "Can you fucking hurry up?"_

_"Beg for it," was the reply as Damien purposefully slowed his movements, hands teasing the hem of Arius's shirt._

_"No," Arius said bluntly, wrapping his legs around Damien's hips and pulling him as close as possible. "I don't have the fuckin' patience for that tonight, alright?" Damien hummed, displeased, and held Arius's hips down forcefully, allowing him no friction._

_"Oh, you bastard, is that how we're going to-?" He didn't bother to finish his own sentence. He brought his knee up and nailed Damien in the dick, using his momentary stunned state to push himself up and turn it around. Now Damien was the one beneath him, seething. Arius loved seeing him like this, furious and reluctant to be in any form that could be considered submissive._

_But through the wall, he heard a sob. Arius stopped, his stomach dropping. As much as he blatantly didn't care, it felt wrong to be doing this just on the other side of the wall from his possibly suicidal brother._

_Cruel and uncaring as the world itself, Damien took advantage of his vulnerability._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feelin kinda angsty are we?  
> no this isn't an excuse to write more about damien where would you get that notion i hate that guy i do not find joy in writing his character and in this essay i will


	23. take a bite of my heart tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the case continues, this time with more rational insight from someone not so blinded by emotion lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're not staying home and washing your hands i'll personally arrest you

"I call to the stand Glenn Oglive," said the bailiff as the door opened, and Glenn dipped his head in a respectful nod as he walked into the courtroom and up to the stand. "Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," Glenn replied solemnly. "Where do I start?" He remained calm, unlike the witnesses so far, and addressed the attorney. 

"You worked at Lucky California at the time, correct?"

"Yes," he affirmed, "it was a part-time job alongside my full-time employment with the computer company mentioned." He kept his hands folded in his lap, trying to focus on the attorney. He wanted to look at Arius, at Abel, at the monster that ruined their lives. But he didn't.

"And were you on shift the night of February 2nd, approximately 8:30 PM?" 

"Yes," he said again. "Abel walked in about then, seeming jumpier than usual." He paused, squinting his eyes down at the wood of the stand as he struggled to remember. It had been over a year since then. But they'd all spent weeks trying to recall memories, other than the prosecutor, whose memories were much fresher than his wounds. "He... was looking for aspirin, and didn't say much when I rung him up. He kept looking around, but I remember that the store was mostly vacant. He ran out before I even handed him the bag. He'd just paid, and I offered it, but he just... made a dead sprint for the door. I called after him, but he was already gone. I called my partner- Yasuko- after that, and mentioned what had happened... I should have gone after him..."

"Were you present for the meeting that happened less than a month after Donnelly's disappearance, in which the defendant supposedly came to your friends' apartment?" 

"No, I... no. I heard about it, but it's not my place to say. I didn't have a lot of conversation with... Fai, through Abel or otherwise. The only times we did talk were when I was trying to negotiate with him, but at the time I didn't know it was him. He seemed to like me, but we didn't really get anywhere." He sighed, seeming somewhat wistful.

"And you were the one to find out his identity, correct?"

"Kind of. Yagel and I. Yagel's... well, he couldn't make it to court. But we did figure it out together, yes."

"Have you had past relations with the defendant?"

"No. He was friends with Suko, but we didn't talk. I didn't like him, but because Suko liked him, I had to tolerate him." 

The attorney nodded. "That is all I have for now."

Glenn smiled slightly, not sure who he was trying to reassure with it. The smile fell as the defense attorney stood up, clearing his throat and preparing his interrogation.

"How exactly did you find Mr. Fai's identity?" was the first question.

"We made connections. The way he talked, acted, especially how he treated Arius like... like an old friend, but an enemy. Arius had suspicions, we just built on it. We had Suko go to his house a few times, but they found nothing at all, so... that buffered our progress a bit. Eventually, Yagel followed him home but ended up switching to Grace. She saw Abel in the window. Fai found her, but she was able to run, and at that point, we knew."

"Why didn't you go after Donnelly when he fled from the store?"

"I don't... I don't know. Shock? I didn't want to leave my post, because I was one of the only ones working that night, and... I don't know. I just wasn't thinking."

"Did you hear anything outside?" 

"No? Just a car that drove away a few minutes later, but I didn't think much of it at the time."

"Do you have any proof of Mr. Fai's existence in this town during the time of the alleged kidnapping?"

"No... I... no solid proof. We've all seen him, but like Arius said in his testimony... Fai knew how to get around. We had phone calls, but his voice was never solidly present on the other end, and the texts would give no proof that it was him, even if my and Suko's phones weren't destroyed. Arius's texts just suggest that the kidnapper knew him sorta well. However, the style of texting is uncannily similar to how Fai texts and speaks ordinarily. Which was another thing that led us to his identity."

"What motivations do you believe Mr. Fai would have to harm and traumatize Donnelly so severely?"

Glenn sat back, having to think about that for a second. For the first time, he let his eyes drift to the defendant, who stared back at him with what could be interpreted as either curiosity or menace. It was hard to know. His gaze was very intense, anyone could tell. Of everyone, he seemed the most invested in what the witnesses had to say.

"I've heard him to be cruel, his only respect for those that can match his level. I suppose that's why he was friends with Suko and Will, they didn't put up with his... attitude. They fought back, in a sense. But otherwise, yes, I've heard that he has an unpleasant personality. The little I know about his earlier home life from Suko was dark. So it could be just a lapse of sane judgment, or to mess with people he used to know, or just... for the money. Personally, I think it could've been anyone. He just picked Abel because he knew Abel to be... an optimal target. And I don't think he's right in the head in the first place."

He fixed his gaze on the defendant again. The defendant had leaned back, his head tilted to the right. He wasn't smiling. 

"How well do you know Donnelly?"

"Uh... not well, I admit. I really only know all of them through Suko. I stayed with Abel sometimes, took care of him when... he couldn't take care of himself. I'd call him a friend, but before all of this happened, I didn't know him beyond his... emotional debilitations," he answered, choosing his words very carefully. He looked at Abel, who nodded slightly.

"Thank you," said the attorney. "I have no further questions."

Glenn smiled politely and stood, dismissed to a seat near the plaintiff, who tried to give him a tentative smile. The judge paused the session briefly as the jury discussed, words so hushed that nobody else could hear them. The side of the prosecution seemed uneasy, especially the witnesses. Though in different rooms, both brothers were regretful, knowing that they should have said more when they had the chance.

The courtroom slowly settled into silence again. It was a tense silence. 

"Yasuko Deshimaru?"

Everyone who knew them prepared for an angry and passionate testimony. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally starting to figure out whats gonna happen in this story!


	24. fall for every damn stereotype

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> damien follows through on his threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> violence, rape mentions- expect this shit every time damien's mentioned in a chapter
> 
> anyway dodie's so good i vibe SO HARD to her songs

One moment he was fine. He and Chase were strolling down the sidewalk at night, admittedly a bad idea in these circumstances, but for once they were _talking._ Both had their hands in their pockets and gazes fixed ahead rather than on each other, but it was certainly progressing past the aggression Arius held for him at first. 

"I... don't forgive you. I honestly can't. After you left I just... wanted to die. And I mean... I... let's just... Glenn had to talk me out of it."

"I know... I'd kill you myself if you forgave me. But it's fucking annoying skirting around the topic so much, I can't pretend it didn't happen. And it was a really shitty thing to do, that's... that's an understatement, I guess I'm just... trying to say that I-"

The next moment he'd stumbled against the rough brick wall of the nearest building, winded. He struggled to regain his breath, as it had been knocked out of him in one powerful hit. His back ached, throbbing even, and he wondered if something had been broken or pushed out of place. He felt dizzy and... still confused.

When he looked up through his bangs (which were getting too long, he needed a haircut) he could see Chase fruitlessly trying to fend off an attacker with a baseball bat, attempting to wrestle it from their grasp. God, he was stupid, he should have just run. Arius didn't understand why he constantly threw himself into danger for Arius, he _shouldn't_ be involved. Well, that was a lie. He knew why Chase did it.

He had a bad feeling about this. Like he knew what was going on, but he couldn't think of it, at least not when his heart was pounding so hard and anger boiled in his veins. He staggered forward, grabbing the shoulders of the person attacking Chase, and trying to hold them back. Someone laughed, Arius couldn't tell who, and the person turned around to deliver a harsh uppercut. 

Arius felt his teeth rattle, felt _everything_ rattle. He groaned a bit, stepping back, stunned and jarred. The attacker took the chance to punch him again, landing it pretty much on his cheekbone. He was thrown off balance and made a clumsy grab for the bat and got a hold of it, but only for a second. It was ripped out of his grasp and it struck him again, hard, on the thigh. Arius almost collapsed, but kept an arm on the cold wall, refusing to fall and become even more vulnerable. 

It was then that he saw the second person behind the attacker. They wore all black, like the attacker, sporting a black bandana to cover most of their face. Most prominently, they were holding a phone, they were... recording it. He quickly realized what for, and the whole situation made more sense. He'd known it from the second he was first hit, but it just now came into focus.

"Is this about Abel?" he asked weakly, grunting as he caught the swing of the bat's next blow and pushed back. "Who sent you?" 

"Let's just call him Nox," the attacker snickered at his own invention. Arius didn't have much time to be confused, but for a second something from Harry Potter crossed his mind. He might have laughed at the absurdity of the sudden thought if he weren't in danger. If _Chase_ weren't in danger, too. Or rather, putting himself in danger. Dumbass.

Chase lunged at the guy with something clutched in his hand and swung it in a wide arc at the attacker's head. It connected solidly with the temple. Arius's eyes widened as he watched the man fell back, stumbling and moaning in what Arius assumed must be a dull roar of pain for a moment before collapsing, unconscious. Blood trickled from his temple, and the rock clattered to the ground.

"W-What the fuck-" He didn't know Chase was capable of something like that. He wasn't normally a violent person, that was supposed to be Arius's job, Chase was supposed to... supposed to... to be soft. 

"Let's fucking get out of here!" Chase snapped, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the deserted street. His palm was sticky with sweat, but Arius didn't say anything about it. He ran with Chase, pushing himself forward even through the aching of his bruised body. He didn't look back but somehow knew that the camera was following him, disregarding the unconscious man they had just left behind.

A dark, blurry shape moved out of the corner of Arius's eye. He shouted to Chase, or at least he tried to, but truthfully it all happened too fast to muster any comprehensible words of warning.

Someone had pounced out of an alley, intercepting their path with perfect timing. Arius turned, only to be punched dead in the face. He reeled back, almost falling on his ass in the road. His hand slipped out of Chase's, but he didn't know what happened to Chase in the following seconds.

The person swung at him again and Arius rose his hands to fight back. It had been too panicky, not thought out, and the other's fist connected with Arius's fingers _hard_. There was a sickening crunch, but at the time the pain wasn't enough to make him think that he'd broken anything. Arius hissed and cursed under his breath all the same, but was then kicked in the back of the knee, and he fell into a clumsy kneel helplessly. He tried to get to his feet but was kicked back again, this time in the chest, that was when he fell flat on his back. Right on the rough asphalt of the road. 

The rumble of a vehicle sparked genuine fear, the kind of fear that made his stomach twist, and Arius couldn't help but yell out when he saw blinding headlights coming toward him. He scrambled up, only to have to duck as the bat was swung toward where his head would have been. Lord knows how much head trauma he'd just avoided. The jerky movement caused him to _nearly_ topple again, but it wouldn't have mattered. The car was right there. It was all he could do to brace himself. Maybe it was going fast enough to kill him instantly.

And Chase... Chase, that absolute dumbass, ran into the road waving his arms like a maniac at the last second. The car honked and swerved violently because even if it hadn't seen Arius staggering about, it saw Chase in his bright red jacket. 

"They're... they're leaving," Chase panted, kneeling beside Arius but remaining alert. His protectiveness was surprisingly comforting. Arius had never seen this side of him. 

"You're so fucking dumb," Arius mumbled, wincing as he tried to push himself up on the damaged hand. He used the other and shakily got to his knees, then to his feet. He could feel his pulse in every place he'd been hit, an aching thrum that wouldn't end. Not the sharp pain that would keep him conscious, but the all-consuming type that made him want to curl up and groan. 

Chase laughed, but it was pretty humorless. Arius looked at him. He was pale and his forehead held a slight sheen from sweat. His eyes were still wild and teary. He was scared. Really scared. If it hadn't been capitalized on before, it sure had now; they had a dangerous enemy.

A car door opened and shut quickly. Both men turned around, panicked even if they wouldn't admit it, only to see a short and kind of chubby woman running toward them. "Sh-Shit, are you guys okay? What the hell was that?" she asked, eyes wide. They were a beautiful emerald green, standing out greatly from the darkness of her skin. "Can I help?" Arius grumbled incoherently and tried to turn around to walk away. Chase grabbed his good hand. 

"We, um... I mean, his apartment is like a ten-minute walk from here, and I don't know if... can you give us a ride? Would you mind?" he asked, innocently enough. The woman nodded vigorously.

"Come on in. Are you sure you don't want a hospital?" she responded, seeming genuinely worried. "The ER's open."

"I'm sure," Arius spoke up, firm. He was hesitant about getting into this random person's car, but she didn't look the type to kidnap someone, or to have any bad intentions at all really. And Arius knew he wasn't in a state to be limping home for the sake of his pride. His back felt like it was broken. Christ. 

So they got into the car. It was small, smelling of junk food and cigarettes, but both men were very used to that smell. Neither bat an eye when she apologized for it. She added, "A-Are you certain of-? I mean, I could just have my girlfriend check you over, you really don't look so good." It was then that they noticed a thinner figure, slouched over in the front seat. She was eyeing Arius in the rearview mirror, who grunted and just laid down across the back seat, head ending up in Chase's lap. He really just wanted to go home.

"Your hand," said the second woman, turning around in her seat. She obviously noticed how Arius was clutching it to his chest. In the darkness it was hard to make out her features, but he could tell that her face and nose were sharp. There were a couple of moles dotted about her face. Her cheeks had some slightly reddened streaks. Her hair was messily chopped short and her eyes were very familiar to Arius. Not in color or shape, but in emotion. They reminded him of Abel's eyes.

After a pause, she reiterated her point more by extending her own hand, gesturing for Arius to rest his in hers. He didn't do so. He didn't trust her one bit. "Ari, please... he fucking nailed you in the hand," Chase sighed, daring to put a hand in Arius's hair. He recoiled at first, but they both knew he found comfort in it. He was like a cat.

"Fuck you," he replied. And winced as another throb of pain went through his fingers. He sighed and extended his hand, very gingerly resting it on the stranger's. Her hand was calloused but it was clear that she was trying to be gentle as she examined them. 

"Try to move them?" she asked, seeming just as tired as he was. He did try, and he could kind of move them, but only a little. It hurt enough to make him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, and that was pretty much her answer. She poked lightly at them, making him again inhale sharply, trying not to make noise. "I think your ring and middle fingers are broken," she concluded. "You could splint them if you don't wanna go to the hospital."

Arius groaned. "Fuckers. Of course they did." The woman gently let go of his hand, and he drew it back to his chest. 

"Do you think anything else is broken?" asked the first woman, the dark-skinned one in the driver's seat. 

"Leg doesn't hurt enough to be broken, same with my back. Probably fine," he muttered. Chase must have sensed his growing agitation because he ran a hand through Arius's hair softly, combing it with his fingers. It did help, stupidly enough. 

"We'll just get on to his place," said Chase. "Clove Avenue, to the south, shady looking apartment building."

The driver nodded, the curls of her long dark hair bouncing with the movement. She exchanged a glance with her girlfriend, who lifted her left shoulder in an uncaring and exhausted shrug. The car then lurched forward, which the driver quickly apologized for, and Arius made a small noise of discomfort. Soon they were off, cruising down the still vacant street. Arius could see the streetlights passing through the windows, a quick flash of yellow-orange light before vanishing to be replaced by another. It was kind of dizzying. 

"Can I get your names?" Chase asked, clearly trying to make conversation. Arius knew he was anxious. They were both a little anxious. Being in a stranger's car, pretty much at their mercy (especially due to Arius's injuries), was not a comforting feeling. 

The second woman looked at her girlfriend, and they seemed to exchange a conversation in the fraction of a second that the first returned the look before placing her eyes back on the road. "You can call me Ellie, and she's Kinsley," said the first, glancing up to smile at Chase in the rearview mirror. She had a kind but sad smile. "What about your names?"

"Chase," the idiot introduced himself. "And this dumbass is Arius." Ellie laughed, and said it was nice to meet them.

"Fuck you," Arius said again, moving his good hand to rest it on Chase's thigh, holding it kind of like a pillow. Chase giggled a bit, but Arius _knew_ he was blushing.

It was strange, how their relationship had changed. They certainly weren't a _thing_ , and Chase still cried nearly every time he brought up the one-night stand they'd had. Arius would say that they were still far from friends. But maybe there was a chance of mending it. It still made Arius a little sad and irritated to know how infatuated Chase was with him. He still didn't see _why,_ after all the shit he'd done, he'd hold some love for Arius. It was wrong. But fuck, Arius was _trying._

Silence fell over the car, and the four of them bumped along the roads in the dark. Streetlights continued to flash by, and sometimes they would see cars with beaming headlights, but not many were out at this hour. Arius listened for the tick of the turn signal and would brace himself for the movement. He listened to the rumble of the engine, and the soft sound only he could hear of Chase's fingers combing through Arius's hair, brushing his scalp. 

A little less than ten minutes later the car slowed, pulling over to park at the curb in front of the dingy apartment building Arius called home. "This the place?" Ellie asked politely, glancing back at the two of them.

"Yeh," was all Arius bothered to say, using his unbroken hand to slowly push himself up into a sitting position. His back ached in protest, as did his thigh when he put it back on the floor of the car.

"Thanks, Ellie. And... Kinley, right?" Chase asked, and she shook her head. "O-Oh! Uh, Kinsley! Right?" She nodded, and Ellie smiled again, displaying a neat row of teeth. She wished them good luck and farewell, which Chase tried to return. He helped Arius out of the car and they approached the building. The car didn't pull back onto the street until the door swung shut behind them.

"This fucking building needs an elevator," Arius grit out as he grabbed onto the railing and started pulling himself up the staircase, step by step. It wasn't agonizing, but all he wanted to do was lay down and curse everything. The bastard had nailed him straight in the back with that bat. He wanted to return the favor.

Chase mumbled something in agreement as they climbed the stairs. Halfway up to the apartment, Arius's phone buzzed, and he stopped at the top of the second flight to check it.

**"Abel":**

You put on quite a show.

**Arius:**

oh go FUCK YOURSELF

**"Abel":**

If that attitude persists, it will be your dear brother being fucked.

**"Abel":**

Shall I record that too?

**Arius:**

SHUT UP SHUTUP 

**"Abel":**

Is that a yes?

**Arius:**

ITS A FUCKING NO IM GOING TO GET ICE AND MAYBE RESUME THIS FUCKING CONVERSTION LATE R BYE YOU SICK FREAK

**"Abel":**

Delightful! Talk to you soon. :)

"THAT FUCKING FREAK!" Arius screamed into the echoing stairwell. He wanted to throw his phone, watch it break, but it was all he had. He wasn't crying, just fucking furious, banging his fist on the railing. 

Chase rushed over to him, panicked. "A-Are you okay? Was that... Nox? What'd he say?" he asked, already looking teary. Looked like he'd reached his emotional capacity limit for the day. 

"He just- fuck, I want to fucking _strangle_ him. Almost as fucking obnoxious as... ugh. Shit. I'm just... going to go upstairs. Lie down. Scream."

He huffed and kept going up the stairs. His blood boiled, so much that he felt his hand would melt the damn railing. It was such a fit of burning anger that it made him want to crawl out of his own fucking skin and... he didn't know. He just felt like his body couldn't contain his rage. He was _shaking._

Arius knocked heavily on the door when they reached it, not wanting to bother fumbling with his keys when his hands were so shaky. It took a few seconds, but the door soon opened to Suko, whose brows were furrowed in worry and confusion. When they saw the condition Arius was in, they quickly turned back to call for Glenn. He hurried into view after a clatter of dishes. It seemed none of them were able to sleep that night, which was a good thing. 

"Who... oh, I shouldn't even bother asking who. I'll get a medkit," said Glenn, turning around and powerwalking toward the bathroom, where they kept their medical supplies. 

Suko invited the two of them in, locking the door behind them. "Holy shit, are you okay? Anything broken? What was it about?" they asked, desperate to know more about what had happened. Arius didn't blame them, but he didn't want to explain it at the moment. Luckily, Chase stepped in.

"The kidnapper, I think one of his henchmen or whatever called him Nox, said he'd hurt Arius for shit Abel did and the other way around too... so I guess that's what happened. One of the girls that picked us up said two of his fingers were broken, and he got whacked on the back and leg pretty hard with a bat, and... well, punched in the face." He gestured to Arius's cheek, which was swelling.

His story told, Arius grunted and went to the couch to lay down. Suko called to Glenn, telling him to get a splint, then hurried to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Nox means night or dark in Latin. Sounds edgy," they commented, bringing the water over to him. He wasn't even in the mood to give them a pity smile. He took the water, gulped it down, and before he'd even given them the glass back, his phone buzzed. His heart jumped at the mere sound and feel of it. He thrust the empty glass back at his roommate and took out the cursed device.

An image. 

Nox might have done it up all pretty, taking it at a photographically pleasing angle with a good camera, putting on a grayscale filter, and accompanying the message with a simple ' _Isn't it pretty?'_ , but it was the content that cut through all of that. It made Arius's stomach turn. It wasn't like he was new to bruises and injuries, but knowing it was Abel (the skin had his messy scars) and knowing the context, it disturbed him more than usual. 

Suko must have seen the disgust and disturbance on his face, because they knelt down to look at his screen. As soon as they registered what they were seeing, their breath caught in their throat, the abrupt effects of their shock and horror more than visible on their face. "W-What the fuck," they whispered.

By then Glenn had returned. He took one look at Suko's face and leaned down, gently lifting their chin to kiss them on the nose. "Go make some tea, okay? I'll clean him up," he murmured, instantly in comfort mode. They nodded, not even trying to protest, getting up to make tea. Glenn knelt and softly asked to see the supposedly broken fingers. Arius offered his hand and tried to ignore the pain, instead focusing on the new messages being sent. He decided to rename the contact quickly.

**Nox:**

You left me on read. I do hope you appreciated my work.

**Nox:**

Perhaps that was not enough for you.

**Arius:**

dont you DARE touch him

**Arius:**

confront me yourself you fuckign coward 

**Nox:**

Oh, but that is no fun. Observing from a distance, having total control of your fragile emotional state... it is entertaining, to say the least.

**Arius:**

WE CANT FUCKING PAY YOU WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT

**Nox:**

I do not care about returning him to you, it was simply an alternative. What you can do, however, is listen to me. Surely we would not want to mark his body more than is necessary. 

**Arius:**

i hate you i fucking htae you you vile fucking monster

**Nox:**

How sweet. I hope you are aware that he knows you are the one inflicting this pain upon him.

**Arius:**

im NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP 

**Nox:**

Calm down, darling... he is crying enough.

**Arius:**

dont hurt him

**Nox:**

It is too late for that, unfortunately. 

Arius literally thew his phone. It hit the wall and fell to the floor. Suko jumped from their place in the kitchenette, almost spilling hot water on themself, but Glenn managed to keep his hands steady. He'd secured a small plank thing to both of Arius's broken fingers, holding them straight. It hurt, but that was the least of his concerns. 

"We have to get him out of there," he growled, already trying to stand up. Glenn told him no and gently pushed him back down. 

"Not in this state. May I see the bruises?"

Arius sneered but pulled off his shirt and twisted so Glenn could see his back. He heard Glenn exhale softly, indicating that the damage wasn't unimpressive. "That'll need ice," he said, and got up to get some. 

"Don't you fucking understand?" Arius hissed, turning back and pushing himself to his feet again. "He's- he's being _tortured._ And... I have a bad feeling, I just... Nox is just like _him._ " 

"Just like who?" Glenn asked curiously, returning with a few towels and ice packs. He looked sympathetic, but he was more focused on his task than the emotional side. Glenn was someone who could hardly concentrate on more than one thing at once. 

Seeing Suko looking at them from the kitchen, Arius shook his head and just groaned into his hands, frustrated. "Nothing... we just have to get him out. I don't care how," he snapped.

Glenn sighed. "I can look into it, but... we don't have a lot of leads."

"Don't care," said Arius quickly. "I'm going to murder the bastard hurting him, and he's going to fucking suffer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm magnus archives get me through this i beg  
> i cant wait to write a scene of someone punching damien


	25. oh how easily passion twists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel takes a step toward both his freedom and his demise

"T-That's... that's so... _sick_. I..." 

Abel didn't have much else to say. He wanted to scream, but he'd stifled the urge. He just pressed his palms to his closed eyes and sniffled, feeling like a baby. He hated seeing people hurt, especially Arius, and... wasn't that Chase? It was dark and the camera was grainy, but he could swear he recognized that hat. Maybe they were getting along again... but that wasn't what he was paying the most attention to. It was the way Arius staggered away, how there was a loud _crack_ when the bat connected with his fist, how he cried out when the headlights sped down the street.

"Is t-that why you..." Abel trailed off, moving his hand to his bicep, which was badly bruised. It had been completely unexplained, but he understood now.

Damien smiled in his wickedly handsome way, confirming his suspicions. "He never knew when to keep his mouth shut, did he?" 

"I-I guess n-not."

But fuck, he wanted to shut Damien up. It was sadistic, what he was doing, what he'd ordered to be done to Arius. Abel liked being able to see and hear him to know that he was alive, but not... not in that situation. 

He'd been very cautious around his captor lately. He was afraid of doing anything to tempt him closer, to activate his violent urges, anything... he just... he felt so damn _uncomfortable_ whenever Damien was around, but he didn't like being alone either, so it was a delicate balance. Like walking on eggs, trying not to crack them.

Of course, it's nearly impossible not to break eggs when walking on them. That was why he was flustered and also bruised. So much for a balance. It didn't seem to matter anyway. He wasn't doing anything, and yet Damien still found it necessary to approach him, like right now.

His hands were cold when they grasped Abel's arms, right above the shackles on his wrists. They'd been put back in place sometime after the whole... incident with the clients. "These begin to wear on your skin after a while," he murmured, hands sliding down to the attached chains. He yanked on them, pulling Abel closer until Abel couldn't do much else but gingerly rest his hands on Damien's arms as well. "Unfortunately for you, I will not remove any of your restraints without a price."

"I-I- it's- it's fine, really, I-I'm not interested in-" Abel stammered, face reddening as Damien leaned closer. "I j-just need a nap, I don't know, n-nice seeing you and all b-but I'd rather not-"

"Oh, shut it. You have nothing better to do," the bitch laughed, the scent of his breath minty and sharp. Abel wrinkled his nose involuntarily, leaning back and gently trying to pry himself away. Damien's hands tightened on his wrists and tugged him closer again. "Now, are you interested in more of that freedom you were previously so desperate to obtain?" 

"N-No, it's fine... it's..." The words of denial were stuck in his throat as he looked up into Damien's face. His eyes were enchanting and dark, but they were framed _so well_ by his other features. He was sculpted like a god, and it was so unfair. Abel understood why Damien had the job he did in the business now. He was dangerously good at it, and had the looks for it too.

Damien raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. Abel couldn't, every excuse he could have made disappearing out of thin air. Again he tried to back away, taking a single step back, but couldn't go much further with the way he was being held. They were far too close, intimately close, and Damien had _no_ problem with it. That wasn't even surprising at this point.

"What... what do you even want me to do?" Abel asked meekly, trying hard to keep the stutter out of his voice. He hated fueling Damien's smug smiles. Damien was like a nightmare, and he fed on fear. Wasn't gonna stop Abel from being scared though. He felt like a bunch of dry, useless leaves just there to fuel the fire for a bit and die out. Huh. That didn't seem too far off, actually.

"Initiate," Damien replied, like it was no big deal. "You will have to get used to it eventually, but... for now, we will not go far." 

Abel shuddered. Sure, Damien could probably fuck whoever he wanted and probably did it often, but for Abel, who had only kissed someone a few times and had never progressed to... to what was planned for him, it was a huge deal. And this was _not_ somebody he wanted to have his first time with. It just sent alarm bells through his head, red flags, sirens, whatever you'd call it. But it didn't seem to matter. There was nobody around to help.

"I'm not... comfortable with that. At all. I just... it's fine. I'll- I'll stay like t-this," he insisted, getting more panicked as he went on. 

"Breathe," Damien demanded, cutting him off. "I am not in the mood for your tears." So Abel paused, lowering his head and closing his eyes, trying to breathe and ground himself. Damien didn't move, letting him do his thing.

Five things he could see... he opened his eyes. Damien, the floor, the edge of the rug, the shine of sunlight on the floorboards, and the torn jeans Abel was wearing. Four things he could feel... Damien's hands, the coldness of the air, the smoothness of the floor, and the hair that had fallen over his face. Three things he could hear... the birds outside, his own breathing, and the quiet clink of the chains when he shifted. Two things he could smell... mint, and cleanliness in general. One thing he could taste... also mint. He'd actually remembered to brush his teeth this morning.

By the time that was done, he felt better. He exhaled and leaned forward, resting his head on Damien's shoulder. Damien chuckled quietly but didn't make a move to stop him, and he in fact invited the motion. Of course he did. He put his arms around Abel in a sort of embrace, but it felt more threatening than comforting.

"You cannot avoid me forever, _mo grá._ "

" _Éirigh as_ ," Abel replied in a mumble, but he doubted Damien knew what it meant. The bastard had only learned pet names to mock him. Abel seemed to be right about that, because he got no response.

He didn't want to back up now, because he was more relaxed here and most of all he really didn't want to look at Damien's face again. That tension was far too much to bear. To his credit, Damien let him have time, even swaying slightly. 

"I just wish..." Abel began, not even sure where he was going with it at first. "I wish we c-could fucking talk or do something normal w-without... any of this or the violence... I don't know what, I just... um... I'm tired. Of... all this."

Damien didn't answer at first, but after a pause he laughed. It was _terrifying_ when he was this close. Deep and thrumming, coated in poison disguised as honey. It was the kind of laugh that made his stomach turn. But that was just Damien altogether. Revolting.

"How... pure," he said, almost fondly. "I would be willing to do something 'normal', as you put it. At a price."

"Why is- I- never mind. Is it the same... thing as... t-the chains?"

"Yes."

Sudden hope blossomed in his chest, making him pull away and look up. All he had to do was mention the name. They would know, right? Or maybe Arius would be more likely to believe him, but he didn't want to put Arius in more danger. Surely Damien had a soft spot for his friend, though didn't he use their dead pronouns when... whatever. "Could I talk to Suko instead o-of all that? Just one quick co-" he begged, and was quickly cut off.

"No. I have risked enough already."

" _Please_ ," he tried again, grabbing Damien's shoulders. To his surprise, Damien quickly stepped back, pressing his lips together in a firm line. He let go of Abel. He looked... defensive. Abel's arms fell back to his sides uselessly, his cheeks flushing red.

"No."

His only goddamn chance at getting out. "W-What do I have to do?" 

At that, Damien quirked an eyebrow, seeming to return a bit of his smugness. "I do not think you would like to know," he answered. God, the way he dragged out his words was so frustrating. Did he have something against apostrophes? 

But Abel already knew what he wanted. And it was an awful idea, probably not worth one call, but if he could just say Damien's name....

In his moment of thought, Damien approached him quickly and pushed Abel the short distance against the wall, a hand at his throat. Abel's eyes widened and he tried to struggle at first, but went dead still when Damien started talking.

"If you ever utter anything that could give away our location or my identity, you will be dead before anyone arrives. You underestimate how _painful_ I can make this for you."

Abel whimpered involuntarily, trying to shrink back against the wall. "P-Please stop being so... imposing," he pleaded, and his mind whirred as he tried to change the subject even slightly, "a-and- I- what do I get for...?"

The threat wasn't entirely washed away in his body language, but Damien did seem to make an effort to relax, leaning back and taking his hand off of the wall where it had been beside Abel's head. "It depends. That conversation you wanted, the removal of the chains on your wrists, or perhaps both if you are lucky," replied his captor, cocking his head to the side. It was clear that he was waiting.

Abel intended to do it and get it over with. Just something quick, a small price to pay for another step to freedom. But he couldn't move, again, his body froze up. His brain simply wouldn't let him do it. Like it had stopped processing. Abel stood still, looking up into that stupidly handsome face, at the glimmer in those dark eyes, at how his lips were turned up into a smirk. The thought of it was kind of disgusting, and it made his heart beat faster. Fuck, what was wrong with him?

They stayed face to face for what felt like an eternity. Abel leaned back against the wall, trying his hardest to work up the courage to just... do it. All of this, it was so messed up, but this specific event felt more painful than the cuts in his palm. It was mostly because he had a _choice,_ and he had to be responsible for making it. 

But did he really have a choice?

Mercifully, Damien wasn't saying anything to make it more difficult, but he wasn't making it any easier with his intense stare. It would be awkward if Abel weren't too busy thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. He felt like his heart was going to actually explode. Or maybe the amount of blood in his ears and face would deafen him and, hell, kill him for all he cared. Fuck.

"S _tailc marbh mé,_ " mumbled Abel, and stood slightly on tiptoe to kiss his sadistic kidnapper.

It was brief and awkward, a simple peck upon his lips, but it made Abel's world spin. He felt like he'd just committed every possible sin at once and he was certainly about to go to hell. The moment of silence between them carried enough tension to last a lifetime. He was about to break down in tears and screams, the knot in his stomach moving up to his chest. It felt like fingers were clenching his heart, squeezing it and cutting off his oxygen. Fuck, he was going to pass out, and at that point, god might as well strike him dead.

"I knew you would," Damien said finally, his cold expression cracking with a flash of a malevolent smile. For some reason, it reminded Abel of a snake, if only for a moment.

And then he stopped thinking completely. His heart stopped beating. His entire body froze in place, and time _stopped._

Because Damien's lips were on his, and it was _not_ a chaste kiss. It wasn't rough, it was... actually pretty gentle and in another context, it would be sweet. It filled Abel's senses with the coolness of mint and an odd warmth. Abel absolutely melted into it. He'd never been kissed like Damien was kissing him, with such care and practice and... he could mistake it for passion if he didn't know any better.

It was slow and languid, so perfect and heart-stopping that Abel felt like a spotlight had fallen upon them and there was nothing else in the world. He almost didn't want it to end, but he felt so blind and confused. He couldn't fucking think, there was just that... feeling. Abel realized he was reciprocating the kiss, and god, that made him feel even worse.

Then Damien slowly allowed them to part, and Abel dared to open his eyes (when had he even closed them?) to see. Their gazes were locked. Damien licked his lips and lingered for a moment longer, their noses nearly touching. Abel couldn't breathe, not until Damien leaned away. A wry smile spread across the taller's expression, and he ran an affectionate hand through Abel's hair.

"Oh my god," Abel breathed after a silence. He felt the heat in his face and knew it was bright red with a horrified embarrassment. He brought his hands up to cover his face and kind of turned away, mumbling an almost incoherent stream of curses into his hands. "Oh my g-god, I'm so fucking stupid. Fuck." 

He hadn't just kissed the man who had kidnapped and abused him. He'd opened up an entire gateway. He'd taken the first step, and now there wasn't a _chance_ to turn back. Abel had just invited hell to be personally served to him on a silver platter.

And the devil himself laughed. "No need to be ashamed, darling. You are far from the first person to act upon your desires concerning me," he said, quite mockingly. Abel scowled behind his hands. He wanted to go lock himself in the bathroom and never come out. 

But Damien was true to his word. His hands closed gently around Abel's wrists, pulling them away from his face, and he slotted a key into the keyhole on the shackle binding his right arm. He unlocked it and the metal fell to the ground with a loud clink. Abel marveled at the raw skin left where it had been, relieved to feel the air on his wrist. Damien unlocked the other one and then seemed to wait expectantly.

The first thing Abel did was awkwardly shuffle out of the space between Damien and the wall. He went toward the window and extended his no longer bound arms. He could just barely touch his hands to the cool glass. But if he leaned forward enough, he could. It was such a refreshing feeling. 

Maybe soon he'd be able to feel the wind in his hair, the warmth of the sun on his skin that wasn't filtered through a window, the taste of the spring air. Things he had once taken for granted, and things he would never take for granted again.

One step closer.

Then an arm snaked around his waist, and Abel looked to see Damien standing beside him, watching him ponder the outside. Abel was reminded that he didn't just take a step toward his own freedom; he'd taken a step toward his demise as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the shorter chapter hope you were as awkward as i was during that


	26. so promise me that they'll fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel tries to have a conversation with damien but nothing ever goes well does it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of suicide, stay safe <3

April 4th, wasn't it?

Yeah. Still April 4th.

Mercifully, Damien had left him to his own thoughts. Abel had been lying on his bed for hours now, staring up the ceiling. He was disgusted, confused, and he just felt... wrong. Absolutely wrong. 

He could go on and on about how he felt what had occurred that morning. About how awful it made him feel, yet how much tension it had released just to finally kiss the fool, how... how he felt... fuck. It didn't matter, anyway.

His sketchbook sat beside him, open to a fresh page. He was already halfway through the damn thing, with all the time he had. He wanted to fill pages with his frustration, but... he couldn't. He just couldn't will himself to pick up the pencil. What would he even draw? Did it matter?

What the hell even mattered anymore?

Abel groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the plush pillow beneath him. Maybe if he lay there for long enough, he could smother himself. But there wasn't a point to that. Doing that would just eliminate every chance he had at getting out of there, and although he was sure Damien would merely laugh at his corpse, Suko would be devastated. Arius... Arius was complicated. Abel wasn't sure Arius cared. But still.

After a while, his breathing grew stifled and he turned his head to the side, facing the rest of the room. The sun was nearly done setting outside. It was very pretty, but it would be more beautiful if there wasn't a house and a tree blocking the way of part of the view. Abel grumbled and slowly propped himself up on his elbow, pulling the sketchbook toward him and taking the pencil out of its spine. 

Though paints would do better, he could try. Abel adjusted the pencil in his left hand and started to draw what he could see. The branches silhouetted against a pink sky, the roof of the next house cutting into the color... the shading for the sky was the hardest part. He couldn't make it too dark, but the shades had to be noticeable, as well as the odd wrinkles in the blanket of clouds overhead. 

He did manage it, in the end. But he wasn't happy about it. It was too messy, too wrong, too unreal. At least that was how he saw it. There wasn't much to be happy about at all. Dying seemed pretty great.

"You stupid slut," Abel mumbled to himself, dropping his head back down on the pillow with a heavy sigh. "Fuck."

A few minutes passed before he couldn't lie still any longer. Abel untangled the chains around his ankles from the blankets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, accidentally knocking his sketchbook to the floor. He felt dizzy when he sat up. Although Damien had left a glass in the bathroom to let him easily drink the surprisingly clean tap water, Abel hadn't bothered. He sighed again and stood up too quickly, placing a hand on his forehead as his vision swam. 

He realized he hadn't gotten up since that morning, but his mistake was realized too late. His knees buckled. He crumpled, vision black and his eyes burning. He couldn't say it was the first time this had happened. He waited it out, keeled over on the cold floor. Even when he could see again, Abel decided not to get back up. He was fine there on the floor. 

The door creaked open and Abel's eyes trailed up to see the bastard walking toward him slowly. Abel hadn't heard him around the house at all for about eight hours, so he was rather surprised to see Damien back. His dress shirt was black, rather than the white one he had been wearing in the morning. And he was holding food in a steaming bag that Abel recognized.

"Wallowing in self-pity?" Damien asked wryly, setting the bag down on the surface of the dresser. It smelled amazing. Abel hummed in affirmation, not making a move to get up. He put an arm over his face like it would stop Damien from seeing him at all. Hm... if he could have any superpower, it'd definitely be invisibility. Maybe then none of this would have happened in the first place.

So he just lay there, on the floor, while Damien took food out of the bag. It was the ramen from the place Suko worked at, of course it was, and Abel couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. He was just relieved to have it. A small reminder of home.

"Get up," Damien ordered when he'd set out the styrofoam containers on the surface of the dresser. "You are malnourished."

"Not... not really my fault," Abel said quietly, reluctant, and started to push himself up. He was promptly slapped, and he yelped, falling back. He tried to get up again, but he was kicked back to the floor and Damien's shoe pressed down on his sternum. It took Abel a moment to realize what he was meant to do, as he was scared and hurt. But he got it before things could get worse. "I-I'm sorry," he gasped, pleading with his eyes. The pressure was let up, and Damien silently watched him as he struggled to his feet. 

Once he was steady on his feet again, he started to reach for the food. Then he froze, quickly withdrawing his hand and looking at his captor. "You may," Damien said, answering his unasked question. He seemed quite pleased.

"Thanks," Abel mumbled, so quietly he wasn't sure Damien would decipher it, but the cocky smile that spread across his lips told Abel that he heard it. He tried to ignore it. "Can I eat on the bed?" he asked. He was kind of understanding how to talk to Damien in a way that wouldn't upset him, but Damien was still a wild card and Abel didn't have a lot of self-control. 

"Do not make a mess," Damien replied sternly, but it seemed to be permission. So Abel gingerly took the hot container in his hands and walked over to the bed, sitting and staring down at the food for a moment. Just the smell of it made him want to tear up. During the summer he'd go to the shop on Sundays, where he could eat outside at dusk and Suko would take a break to sit with him and they would just talk... and... Damien had taken all of that away from him without a damn care in the world.

He aggressively stabbed the fork into the noodles. He started to very slowly eat them, or at least try, but he wasn't feeling very hungry when Damien was so obviously staring at him. It made him sick. But he knew he needed food. He was afraid of what would happen if he didn't eat.

He was only on his third bite when Damien sat down on the bed beside him. He was so close that their knees touched, and Abel flinched away, almost choking on his food. Damien smirked and thankfully turned his attention to the window across the room. The sun was done setting, leaving the sky a nice dark violet, fading into darkness the higher up in the sky one looked. 

Abel took the chance to shamefully look at him. Stupid bitch was perfect. But if he squinted, he could swear there were dark bags forming under his eyes. It was barely noticeable, just something you'd get from a night of bad sleep or a long day. "You're tired," he muttered, not really thinking about it. He buried his regret in another forkful of ramen. 

For a few moments, Damien just looked at him. He wasn't angry nor was he smug. "Is that so?"

Those three words made him suddenly doubt himself. But he observed Damien's eyes some more and determined that yes, he did look exhausted. Maybe Abel had just been too focused on... other things this morning, but... yeah. "Dunno. Wanna talk about it?" he asked dumbly. 

Damien scoffed. "No."

"Alright." Abel shrugged, playing it off, but he was withering of humiliation inside. 

"However, you did earn that conversation you wanted this morning, did you not?"

"I mean," said Abel, grimacing at the memory, "I'd hope so." He really didn't want to have to relive something like that just for a civil conversation. Damien seemed amused, which was probably a bad thing....

"What is it you want to talk about?"

He was taken aback by the choice he'd suddenly been given. "Uh... I uh... is it bad to want to talk about you?" he asked, stumbling over his words and wincing when he finished speaking. 

Damien rose an eyebrow, but he didn't seem surprised. "Perhaps. What is it you wish to know?" 

Nervous, Abel stalled by taking another bite of ramen. He really didn't know. There probably wasn't much he could ask without somehow offending his captor. Once he'd swallowed his food, he tried to speak. "Um, high school? You knew me, right? I just knew you... as... hah. How everyone else knew you," he said hesitantly.

"Ah," Damien said, seeming to reminisce for a second. "Yes. You were unimportant to me. Too depressed to be of any... use. Other than your money, of course. I assume you are clean now."

Abel shrugged, already starting to regret asking. He didn't like to look back on his high school days. Like Damien said, he was too depressed to be of any use to anybody. Damien was just... his drug dealer. They rarely spoke. And shit, the drugs. That wasn't fun. He'd gotten help after he just barely graduated high school, and he was glad he did, because if anything being held captive without access to anything that would feed his addiction would suck. He'd been itching for a smoke, but it wasn't serious. 

He was caught pondering. The food almost slipped from his grasp, but he gasped and tightened his grip. Damien gave him a warning look, then continued, "Most of my items are attractive, though difficult to obtain and even more difficult to break. So you could perhaps imagine my pleasure upon finding that you still resided in Shady Creek, vulnerable and beautiful. Arius would have been more fun of course, but he is much too stubborn and rebellious. Besides, there would be no innocence to ruin... ah, I am getting off-topic. Do you want specifics?"

At that, he couldn't help but scrunch up his face in disgust. He could tell that his cheeks were burning red, but chose to ignore it as well as he could. "A-Arius... I thought he hated you, even back then. And... um... he hated me too, I guess? So... is it okay to ask about what you thought about him?"

"Arius hated everyone, and he still does. I cannot tell if he hated me more or less than everyone else. To me, he was quite beautiful, but only physically. I believe he felt the same, but... he fell hard, like most do. It was amusing to watch. So stubborn, yet so pliable. Our relationship was based purely upon sex and the general usage of each other. He was the most entertaining and similar person I had met, so I wished to keep him, but when he began to want more from me it was impossible to do so. To this day he remains to be the person I would most likely love if I could feel such things. I suppose I will have to settle for you, and though you will not be as fantastically rough as he was, you will be a different type of fun." 

He set aside the remains of the ramen, feeling queasy. Leave it up to Damien to ruin his appetite every single time. "You can't feel love?" he decided to ask, pointedly ignoring what Damien had just said about his brother and... and his... thoughts... on Abel.

"I do not think I have felt it, no. Such strong romantic emotions are irritating and confusing." He was back to gazing out of the window, almost wistful. Abel truly felt like they were getting somewhere. 

"Do you... feel any remorse? For all the shit you've done and... the shit you're still doing? Is that insensitive? It probably is, I just-"

"Sometimes," Damien cut him off. "But some things I cannot help. And if I am benefited in the end, then all is justified."

 _Ah._ The ends justify the means, huh? Abel hadn't met many who truly believed in that philosophy. It was disturbing, but he couldn't say that out loud. "What about Suko? Weren't you friends?"

"Yes. I think we still are. They are one of the only people I still hold a shred of respect for, as they were one of the only people who did not fall victim to my charm."

That was kind of heartwarming, to hear that at least _somebody_ could get through Damien's cold, manipulative exterior. And Abel wasn't surprised. If anyone could best Damien, it would be Suko. They had the strongest will he'd ever seen. "So why did you use their dead pronouns when we first... met?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at his hands. He still remembered the anger he'd felt when Damien had called Suko _he._ Surely a friend wouldn't do that to another, and Suko had been out most of their high school years.

"Honestly? To upset you," Damien chuckled, looking back at him with that infuriating smile. "It worked excellently. I would never misgender them otherwise. They would kill me."

"They totally would," Abel snickered, liking the idea of Suko murdering Damien. He was annoyed that Damien had used the wrong pronouns just to be an asshole, but it was also a relief that it was a one-time thing. "And um... were you two ever a thing? I swear you were a thing with everyone you met."

Damien shrugged. "For the briefest time, we were friends with benefits. But they were not that kind of person, and I am not their type at all. We decided it would be best to remain friends." That was to be expected, though Abel was kind of surprised to hear that Suko had even thought to get involved with Damien. Suko's type was Glenn, and Damien was _not_ Glenn. The two seemed equally as intelligent, but Damien was sick and manipulative and sexually driven, while Glenn was sweet and soft and warm.

"Can I... ask... a-about your family? You talked about y-your dad-"

"That is quite enough about me," Damien said sharply. Abel recoiled and mumbled an apology. He realized he'd hit a sore spot, and stored that in the back of his mind for later. For _what,_ he didn't know, and if he brought it up ever again things would easily take a dark turn, but he felt like somehow the knowledge would be worth something. "Your turn. What is something you have always wanted?"

It didn't take long for Abel to find an answer. "A lot of cliche things, really. I want to be confident, and I wish my friends and I could sustain ourselves financially... and I want to be loved like how Glenn and Suko love each other, and... I don't know, I... hah, it's stupid, but I wish I was better looking," he said, twisting his fingers together with growing anxiety.

"You are already beautiful, _a mhuirnín._ And you are desired, just not in the way you wish you were. You cannot pick and choose." Abel's stomach twisted unpleasantly. He moved back so he was resting against the wall and drew his knees up to his chest, choosing not to say anything. Damien smirked and moved back as well, even closer than before, so that they were pressed together. Abel's heart jumped as his stomach decided to become a gymnast by backflipping over and over, making him sick.

"I-I- in that case, I'd rather not be... desired, as you put it. And I still see an ugly little shit when I look in the mirror, so. Yeah," he replied awkwardly, averting his gaze. 

Damien gave a short hum and then made Abel jump by placing a hand on his thigh. Abel was instantly tense and even more anxious, his face red hot. A million butterflies had been released into his stomach. This was how he died. "How unfortunate it is for you that I disagree," Damien chuckled, watching him too closely. "What is it you so detest about your appearance?"

"U-Um, I, uh... I guess that my acne hadn't completely g-gone away, and my hair is always greasy, a-and... I have so many freckles, and I'm too thin, um... m-my hips, too? Everything. I guess." He couldn't think. He felt warm and tingly. He considered for a moment the possibility of being drugged, but he knew well enough that Damien didn't need to use drugs to make him feel this way. 

"I have had encounters with much worse, love, you needn't concern yourself with your flaws."

In some odd, creepy way, that was reassuring. It shouldn't have been reassuring, but then again, a lot of things shouldn't have happened in the first place. "I... disagree... I guess... b-but I don't see a point in arguing w-with you," Abel said, speaking slowly at first and stumbling over his words. Damien's hand was getting ever closer to a place he didn't want it. "Can we, uh, not do this? I just... wanted a conversation."

"Mm, fine. We will get around to it eventually," Damien said ominously, withdrawing his hand in a painfully slow motion. The lack of warmth on Abel's leg from his palm was disorientating, and for a split second, Abel regretted telling Damien to stop. But that only lasted a moment, and he felt relief wash over him as he regained what little personal space he had before. To deter Damien from going back on his choice, Abel tried to relax and lean his head on Damien's shoulder. His chest felt tight and his stomach fluttery, but the contact was kind of nice and it seemed to please his captor.

Scrambling for a conversation topic, Abel asked, "Do you... I mean, I doubt it, but do you like video games? Or shows?"

"I am far too competitive to safely play games, and shows do not capture my interest. Do you?"

Hah, Abel could almost imagine Damien beating someone to death with a Wii remote after losing. He definitely wasn't someone Abel wanted to play Mario Party with. "Yeah. Arius introduced me to Shadow of the Colossus ages ago and fuck, I fell in _love_ with it. Best goddamn game that's ever been made, and whoever disagrees can fight me. And then Steven Universe, don't even get me started!" Talking about things he was passionate about made him feel much more comfortable. Damien laughed at his enthusiasm, but it wasn't a mocking laugh.

Encouraged, Abel started to go on about Shadow of the Colossus and its huge monsters, its beautiful levels, how he felt when he played it for the first time. And by the time he was done rambling, Damien looked even more tired, but still amused. "Yasuko and Will had an Undertale phase. Did you ever play it?" he asked, and he'd just opened a whole new gateway.

"Oh shit, Undertale! Probably my second favorite game. Suko cries every time they think about it, and honestly, same. Undertale is _so_ good, even though it made me really pissed when I tried genocide. That's probably the route you'd go your first run, but it's hard. Anyway, I fucking adore that game. I'd die for Papyrus... and Alphys... and Undyne... so many good characters."

"You seem more passionate about games than anything else I have heard you mention," Damien noticed, and Abel smiled slightly. "Do you enjoy literature or music?"

" _Literature?_ Just say books. I don't really. I can't focus on them. I like rock, I guess, or lofi. Is that even a genre? Well, Suko got me into a lot of obscure music." He hadn't talked this much since he got here, but it felt nice. It seemed innocent, more innocent than what Damien wanted obviously, but still. 

"That is a shame," Damien said, seeming a little disappointed. "The only item I have had that shared my interests killed herself."

The mood was immediately darkened like a candle had been blown out. Abel flinched at the mention of suicide and took his head off of Damien's shoulder, suddenly uncomfortable. Damien snickered, and Abel was once again plunged into the reality of things, slapped with the fact that Damien was still an awful person.

"Can we... talk about the other people? T-That you've had here?" Abel asked timidly, not sure why he was digging himself into this hole.

"For a small price, dear."

Well, shit. Abel sighed through his nose and slumped. Was it even worth what remained of his dignity? He decided not to think about it and kissed Damien on the cheek quickly before retreating and covering his face, which was now burning. He hated this. This whole... ugh, it wasn't even worth reiterating. But the sexual advances today had been awful. Obviously.

"Alright," Damien chuckled, making Abel redder. "I started midway through college. My first item was named Liam. He was as straight as one could be, but I suppose that had to change at some point. He gave in after half a year, as I was unpracticed with the craft. I sold him for less than he was worth. My second called herself Mel. She was much easier to tame, so very eager for my touch... though she cried often. I sold her to the client interested in you, and she is still perfectly loyal. The other one he owns, however... well, she was quite keen on breaking every bone in my body today." He seemed amused at the thought. Abel felt a little sick, but he didn't say anything.

He sat and listened to Damien talk about his 'items' for however long it was. Abel was honestly drifting off. He came back to when Damien mentioned his eighth. "Abigail and I had a few interests in common. She enjoyed being called Abby when she behaved. She was one of the best I have had, despite her fiery temper, and I was disappointed to see her take her own life, but such is the way of things." 

"Huh," Abel mumbled. He regretted bringing any of this up. His stomach was churning unpleasantly. He knew Damien was gross, but... for Damien to be able to drive somebody to suicide and proceed to seem so unaffected by it... that was on a whole new level.

"My ninth was unremarkable. He was already submissive and depressed, so I sold him quickly. And now you are here. Rebellious, but submissive and moldable. Attracted, but reluctant. If you make it to three months without giving up, I would be shocked." 

He wanted to tell Damien to shut the fuck up. But he didn't. He just cringed a bit and fixed his eyes on the window. He was seeing some stars outside now. They were pretty. 

Silence lingered between them for a few minutes. It was uncomfortable and tense, and Abel kept giving the cooling ramen fleeting looks. 

"I... um... I'm sorry, but I'm kind of tired and... uh... uncomfortable. C-Can you please leave? Fuck, I don't know how to phrase it, I'm sorry. I just need space... Damien." He hated saying Damien's name. For some reason, it made Abel feel incredibly inferior. But it did have an effect. Damien nodded curtly, reaching over to gently grasp Abel's hand and squeeze it before letting go and standing. Abel hugged his hands to his chest protectively and watched Damien make for the door.

"Goodnight, Abel."

"N-Night."

And the door shut. Abel immediately slumped more and sighed deeply. He picked up the rest of his cold ramen and started to eat it, sniffling to keep back his tears. He was so fucking tired. Of everything. It had been a long day altogether. 

And so he spent his evening on the bed, shoveling ramen into his mouth and crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate damien yes i do i hate damien how about you


	27. hollowed out pianos left in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a new perspective after a whole three months of torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh... oh lads... it is time. :)
> 
> tw for... violence, obviously, and. kiss. but nothing major

_Tick. Tick._

It mocked him from its perch upon the wall, its hands moving in steady, jolting movements, each second punishing him with that blasted sound, the tedious _tick tick_ of time passing him by. Each reminded him that he was getting nothing done, reminded him that there was probably dust on the shelves he had dusted yesterday, reminded him that he had paperwork to do.

_Tick. Tick._

Damien gritted his teeth and plucked the pen from its holder on his desk, grasping it tenaciously. He put the pen to the paper, beginning to mark it with absurd attention to detail. The pen, a sleek black utensil that cost easily over a hundred dollars, scurried across the page rather angrily, but it left no hint of an aggressive scrawl. The words printed before him were in the gorgeous font people scrambled to compliment. Often it seemed that it did not matter _what_ he wrote, as long as it was in a fancy script. Yet another thing he had worked for years to perfect.

_Tick. Tick._

The client was late. Two minutes late, to be precise. Any decent person would call five minutes before their scheduled time, but Joshua was not a decent person. He was sloppy and infuriating, just another thing Damien coddled for the sake of the undeserved money his clients clutched in their dirty, sweaty hands.

_Ring, ring._

Took him long enough. Damien took his sweet time, clicking the pen and setting it gently in its holder before picking up the phone. "Joshua," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other primly. His eyes wandered over the bookshelves lining the walls. He had read every single one of those books. 

"Hey kid," said Joshua, as if Damien were just a _kid._ Oh, how he _despised_ the man. "We're gonna have to cancel on that boy of yours."

Shock passed through him, if only for a second. He shot to his feet and resisted the urge to slam his palm onto surface of the mahogany desk. Instead, he simply leaned against it, hissing into the phone, "And why would that be?"

"Sarah tried to torch the place, then stabbed herself. Three times! So, we don't exactly have the money to set aside for ya. I'm sure you'll find someone else who's interested."

His blood boiled. He didn't _care_ for Joshua's excuses, and he was _not_ in the mood to throw him a pity party. "I have spent _three months_ on him. Is rebellion enough of an excuse for you to back out on me?" he snapped, not even needing to work hard to get the edge across in his voice. His fingers curled on the desk, pressing his already bruised knuckles against the wood. To balance it, he curled his fingers around his phone too, then loosened both in the same order.

"Lots of damage to repair, kid, chill out. Say, if you were nicer to me, maybe I'd hook you up with some clients who could afford it right now," Joshua said, and Damien could hear the roll of his eyes in his voice. He wanted to tear Joshua apart but had enough common sense to know that Joshua was still a valuable resource. He exhaled, glaring daggers into the wall before formulating a response.

"Understood, though you must recognize the validity of my frustration. Now, would you be so kind?" The composure in his voice was incredibly forced, pushed out of a throat that wanted nothing but to scream, to spit fiery words and break him down piece by piece. 

And Joshua _laughed._ "Yeah, I do. I'll text you their numbers and descriptions later. We good?"

They were absolutely not 'good.' 

"Yes, but please do send them sooner rather than later. Send my regards to Melanie, will you?" he lied through his teeth. 

"Sure thing." And the cretin had the audacity to hang up right there and then. Damien slowly set down his phone, shaking with the rage he had never been able to quite contain. He raked his fingers through his carefully done hair, the feeling of his nails against his scalp pleasant but not enough to calm him in the slightest. He itched to take hold of something and _break_ it, but he had already destroyed his office more times than he could count on one hand. How convenient it was that he had an item likely sleeping soundly in the other room.

It was times like this that he wished he had Arius. They used to take their anger out on each other, an act of passion and pain and lust. Damien could cut him open and Arius would just _moan,_ raking his nails down Damien's back, hungry for more.

There was a knife on one of the packed bookshelves, one that was ordinarily decorative and part of the collection he had been amassing, but it would work perfectly. He swiped it from the shelf and stalked out of the room. He swapped the knife to his other hand, then back. The vacant hallway was starkly lit with moonlight from the windows, and the white curtains of the largest fluttered in the cool breeze through the propped open glass. He did not pause to breathe in the night air, to calm down and reconsider.

He made no attempt to quiet his entrance. He slammed the door open after touching the doorknob twice with three fingers and forced himself to pause in the doorway, watching Abel lurch awake and shrink back in delicious terror. "D-Damien?" he said, shrill. The way Abel said his name was rather arousing, but the feeling was swiftly drowned in the tsunami of his anger. He clenched both of his hands, right first. Usually, these compulsions were more controlled, but he clearly did not have the self-control that he usually did. Not like this.

Just to drain more color from his plaything's face, he decided not to answer and shut the door firmly behind him. He made sure that Abel heard the lock turn. He struggled not to test the lock himself and succeeded. Damien prowled forward, taking painfully slow steps when all he really wanted to do was surge forward and plunge the knife into Abel's soft throat. 

"What... what're you doing?" There was a pleading tone in Abel's voice, which only increased when he saw the glint in Damien's hand. "Do you h-have a knife? W-What did I do?" Now, that was simply adorable. 

Perhaps Damien's intentional mystifying behavior was assisting as fuel for the flame of fear. He purposefully told Abel very little about himself while prying Abel's own interests from him. He only visited now to provide food, and his growing exhaustion due to extracurricular tasks caused him to smile much less, which obviously unnerved his captive. As planned, nothing had gone unnoticed. Abel was observant, and it was quite lovely, though irritating at times.

The third month, he had focused primarily on sexual encounters, but when Abel turned him down he would cease to make conversation and simply leave. It was working, of course, as Abel endured his advances now for the sake of his unfortunate definition of companionship. He rarely reciprocated, but that did not matter yet. Especially at this moment.

"Please say something!" So desperate. How could he resist? 

"You have no idea how _badly_ I desire to slit your throat," he said, the words pushed from his throat in a low growl, giving Abel what he had asked for. His words struck easy terror into the younger, and Damien drank in the sight of him pressed against the wall while still in bed, scrambling to get as far away as possible. It only added to the heat of passion and anger built within him. Vicious energy flooded his veins in a desire to draw blood, to listen to Abel _scream._

"Please don't," Abel said pathetically, and if he were in a better mood Damien would have snickered. But he did not, and his silence seemed scarier to Abel than his laughter. Noted. "W-What... happened?" Oh, so he wanted to know, did he? Might as well, if he was about to suffer for it. 

He stopped a few feet from the bed, twisting the knife in his hand so it caught the light again. He twisted it back, which was likely a waste of movement, but he felt wrong without doing so. "My client went back on his deal. Unless I am able to find interest from another, I have wasted three months of effort on you."

Even in the dark, he could see how Abel's mouth dropped open slightly. "I'm sorry? I- was it my fault? Can I do s-something?" And then Abel made a mistake. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he said, "Can... can I go home?"

Oh, _Abel._

You sweet, naive boy.

At that, Damien _had_ to laugh. It was a harsh, short bark of sadistic amusement, making Abel flinch. Damien leaned forward and roughly took a handful of Abel's hair, tugging him closer until he knew Abel could both feel and smell his breath. "Can you _go home_?" he mocked in a crafted croon. Sometimes, Abel's idiocy astounded him. The item whimpered and shrunk back, cold hands grasping Damien's as his hair was pulled harder. 

"I-I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, that was dumb," Abel admitted, his voice quavering. 

"Yes, it was," he hissed, and his arm seemed to move on its own when he slashed out with the knife. Abel yelped, high pitched and afraid, as it cut through his arm and he promptly let go of Damien. Crimson stained the cloth of Abel's shirt, the patch of red slowly growing as he bled. "Remove your shirt," Damien ordered, withdrawing his hand from Abel's hair and standing up straight again. The feeling of power he had was purely _intoxicating._

Those three words made Abel freeze in place, like a deer in headlights. Damien had come to know that look very well. He half expected Abel to break down into one of his sad little panic attacks, but he was pleasantly surprised when Abel realized that he was in danger and slowly obeyed. His torso was scarred and freckled, and he was so thin that Damien could count each and every one of ribs just by looking at them. Yet, he was beautiful and unmarked in a sense. A blank canvas to splatter with blood and hickeys. 

"What... do you want?" Abel asked in a wavering whisper, clutching his shirt tightly at his side, quite an improvement from holding it in front of his chest. Truthfully, Damien didn't know what he wanted yet. This was not the time for Abel to lose his virginity, for their first time had to be consenting and fully initiated by his item. Perhaps he just wanted to _see_ , to test Abel's boundaries once again, to... ah. Yes, that was what he wanted.

Without providing an answer, he climbed nimbly onto the bed and roughly directed Abel to the center of it, watching the younger squirm in terror and discomfort. He settled onto Abel's hips, straddling him. This was a position he felt quite comfortable in, very... in control. He fed on the look of helplessness on the expression of his captive, beneath him, completely submissive.

Abel's skin was cold and clammy beneath his touch, shivering with what must be an incredible rush of emotion. It was rough with goosebumps wherever he touched. It was perfect, Abel was perfect, at least for his purposes, and that was all that mattered. 

He located the softest, most unmarked part; the patch of skin beneath Abel's ribs, but above the white scars on his lower stomach. Then he drew the knife across it in a perfectly steady and straight line, applying enough pressure to create a shallow, bleeding cut, but nothing that could not be easily taken care of. Abel arched his back in pain and shock, spindly hands rushing forward to grasp Damien's wrists to stop him from creating another. The thing was already babbling for mercy, seemingly quite convinced that Damien had the intention of disemboweling him or something of the sort. It didn't stop Damien from tearing his arm out of Abel's pathetic grip and switching the knife to his other hand, making another neat slash of the same length, directly above the first. It felt a little more balanced then. 

"P-Please, please stop, it hurts-" Abel continued to beg as his chest heaved. Surely it did not hurt as much as he displayed, but despite his heavy past of self-harm, he had a rather low pain tolerance. Oh, how _tragic._

"Take matters into your own hands," Damien replied coldly, making another slice, below the first. "Make it stop." Then, of course, he had to balance it, so he switched the knife back to the other hand to make a fourth. The blood was oozing out from his stomach at that point, dripping down his sides onto the sheets and staining the waist of his sweatpants. The way Abel was breathing so hard only increased the blood flow. Tears were already streaking down Abel's cheeks. What a delightful visual he was.

"I cah- I-I- I can't," he sputtered, clenching his fists and obviously struggling not to touch the wounds. It was quite entertaining. " _Please,_ I ca-can't!" How naive. Of course he could. Perhaps fear clouded his mind, or perhaps he was too afraid.

He moved to Abel's chest, which required much more caution now that the skin was thinner and there were more vital organs beneath. He kept the cuts as shallow as he could, holding Abel down by the throat as he concentrated. It was satisfying how Abel choked and thrashed beneath him. He drew the knife delicately from one side of the chest to the other, then quickly balanced himself by making a second with the other hand, this time starting on the other side. He'd grown to be rather ambidextrous with a knife.

So Abel just kept crying, even more so when Damien let up the pressure on his throat. He gasped in air stained with copper and squeezed his beautiful green eyes shut, much to Damien's dismay. 

"Please stop, I-I'm so dizzy," Abel pleaded, trying to grab Damien's wrist again and missing, mostly because he could not see with his eyes shut. Unfortunately, that was his cue. It would be rash to let Abel bleed out or lose consciousness at all. He must be awake. So Damien stood, running a mockingly affectionate hand through Abel's tangled hair, and retreated to the bathroom for cleaning supplies. He could hear Abel struggling to catch his breath in the other room, trying to stifle the sound of his sobs in his hands. Damien smirked to himself as he gathered everything he would need.

Returning to the bedroom, he reassessed the situation. There was quite a lot of blood, but not more than he expected. Still, it had been audacious to do such a thing without preparation. There was an offensive amount of stains he would have to clean. 

First, he had to clean Abel. He went through the familiar motions, disinfecting, staunching the blood flow, bandaging, et cetera. With how often he did this, he could have led an emergency response team. It was not an amusing thought. Meanwhile, the item cried, hands still on his face, his body shaking. He was like a scared animal. How disappointing he was sometimes.

When Abel was bandaged and the bleeding had stopped for the most part, Damien picked him up bridal style and set him down on the cold wooden floor where he quite deserved to be. At that point, Abel was reduced to sniffling pathetically and didn't even flinch when Damien tossed a pair of clean pants and boxers at him. The blood had soaked through his waistband, which Damien frankly found to be disgusting. He unlocked the cuffs around Abel's ankles, right one first. "Change," he said in a tone that he knew would make Abel shrink back. Unsurprisingly, he was right. Abel shrunk into himself, curling up and crying out at the pain it brought him. 

Damien was not in the mood for this. He kicked Abel hard in the side to prompt another noise of pain and said, "I will not ask twice." Then he left Abel to his task while he stripped the bed of its sheets and narrowed his eyes at the red stain on the mattress. Yes, it was his fault, but he would be damned if he acknowledged that. It was not as if this hadn't happened before. "We will continue," he added as he bunched up the sheets and placed them by the door, "for the remainder of your time here. If you are not sold by next February, you will meet a painful, untimely end. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes," Abel whimpered, and Damien gave him not even the mercy of praise. "I'm... I-I'm so sorry." Very good. He should be. Despite this, Damien continued to appear to ignore him and went into the bathroom to clean the knife he had used. Watching the scarlet wash down the drain was inexplicably satisfying.

After it was absolutely spotless and he had held it up to the fluorescent light a few times just to be certain, Damien clasped it in his hand and returned to the bedroom. Abel was panting, sitting against the wall, but he had managed to change out of his dirty clothes, though still shirtless. Damien shot him a pointed glare, then gestured toward the small pile of bloodied fabric at the door, and Abel winced, hurrying to pick up the jeans and put them in the pile. It looked as if his knees could barely support his meager weight, prepared to buckle beneath him at any given moment. 

When his victim turned, Damien made sure he was _right there._ Abel stumbled back in shock, almost falling onto the grimy pile of clothes and sheets. Oh, what a mess it would have been if Damien were not prepared for his clumsy motions. Damien caught him by the waist like it was some sort of sickly romantic dance, pulling him close enough that he could hear Abel's panicked breaths. Damien made a point of not blinking as he stared into the gorgeous, sparkling depths of Abel's wide eyes. He knew that being so close took Abel's breath away. Such a thing was quite common with others as well, and it was simply another delightful effect he had on people. 

When Abel did nothing after a few seconds, still staring in stunned silence, Damien was unfortunately forced to do it himself. He placed the hand without the knife at the back of Abel's neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was relieving to be able to do this, to give in to some of his desires, as Abel had foolishly enabled him to do so a month ago. As expected, Abel melted beneath his touch, leaning against him and clutching Damien for dear life to keep himself upright. Cute.

It was not a brief kiss by any means, and Abel was clearly running out of breath, struggling to gasp in air every time they parted for even a second. Smirking against his lips for a moment let Abel know that Damien knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it. Damien took Abel's bottom lip between his teeth and dragged his teeth against it as he drew back, letting go. Abel collapsed against him, using his shoulders for support, fingers grasping tightly at the fabric of his shirt.

"You... you smell... like roses," Abel said rather breathily, a voice and tone that together ignited a desire to kiss Abel utterly breathless. Abel, clearly out of it, did not notice the ravenous gaze directed toward him. 

"Do I?" he replied rhetorically. Abel mumbled something incoherent and slumped more, head against Damien's chest. It was clear that, at this moment, he had given up, submitting to his needs. He was like a ragdoll, moving limply beneath an experienced touch.

"I-I'm... tired." Childish.

"Likewise. It is three in the morning," Damien mused, running a hand through Abel's long hair again; it just barely passed his shoulders now and grew greasy far too easily. Disappointing. If Abel did not wash his hair often enough to keep it healthy, Damien would have to wash it himself. "How do you plan to convince me to allow you to rest?" 

It took a few moments for Abel to get it. "I don't... I-I don't want to kiss you. Again. I just... want to sleep. Please," Abel said, finally looking up at him and trying to pull back. His eyes were tired and red and pleading.

Not unexpectedly, Damien did not care. "Tragic," he said disinterestedly, moving the knife to the back of Abel's neck, beneath his hair. The sharp press of the cold blade made Abel freeze, expression painted in ridiculous betrayal. Did he expect to have a _choice?_

It seemed like Abel was finally losing his temper again, after all of the progress they had made. That was not a shock, merely a disappointment. Abel scrunched his eyebrows together like a puppy trying to appear mean and questioned, "Why? W-Why are you so... goddamn... _why_?" He knew the word on the tip of Abel's tongue. Others had said it before, simply to mock him, and they always failed. The turn of the tables was all too amusing.

"You dare insinuate that I am desperate, darling? Apologies for crushing your fantasies, but I am sure deep down you realize that this is merely another step in shattering your sense of self. Now, would you like to rest, or are you begging me to slice open your back as well?" he threatened, very lightly running the knife down the center of Abel's back to enunciate his... _point_. Abel cringed, arched his back away from it instinctively and consequently arched against Damien's body, quickly flushing red but not daring to pull back for the fear of the blade waiting patiently for the taste of his flesh against its cruel steel point.

"No, I... that's not... I _know_ , b-but please... please don't...." he tried to respond, stumbling clumsily over his words. "I-I can't. Not... right now." And what a pointless excuse that was. Though possibly against his beliefs, Abel did not have a choice. Damien made that crystal clear by pressing the blade against Abel's lower back, just below a set of bandages wrapped around his torso. 

"If you continue to be uncooperative, I will have to take matters into my own hands."

Abel was on the verge of tears again, but Damien had asserted himself as very serious about his threats, and he could tell that Abel was struggling with that knowledge. He could see the war within Abel, his desire and lust battling his integrity and pride. Knowing Damien could cause this beautiful clash was absolutely wonderful. 

At long last, common sense won out and Abel linked his arms behind Damien's neck, standing slightly on tiptoe to kiss him. It was hesitant but no longer unpracticed. The action was out of fear, but there was a clear undercurrent of _want._ Of poorly hidden attraction, desire, passion that radiated from hatred of unwanted emotion. 

Many had said that an ugly personality made the most beautiful people into the vilest, but Damien had taken it upon himself to disprove that. He knew very well that not only was his body attractive, but his intelligence, his speech, his touch, his skills. He strived for a sort of beauty and perfection that was generally held as unattainable. The type of beauty that could warp the most malicious into the most desirable.

And, like many others before him, Abel had fallen for it.

He could tell in the way that Abel was no longer struggling to regain his personal space but instead inching closer. He could tell in the way Abel kissed back, letting his anger fuel him. He could tell in the way that Abel's fingers played with the ends of Damien's hair. 

Oh, how far they had come. 

Damien was the one to pull away this time, if only to assure Abel that he was still in control. Abel... was undeniably a sight to behold. His lips were slightly reddened, his hair more tousled than before, his cheeks burning a warm pink, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and involuntarily displayed lust. He was gorgeous, standing unsteadily in the moonlight like this, defeatedly remaining in Damien's arms. 

Then he asked a question that honestly took Damien by surprise, rudely breaking through his poetic vision. 

"Can I have a shirt now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> accidentally used some alliteration in this chapter but i left it bc it sounded cool
> 
> anyhow i continue to apologize for how damn creepy he is


	28. the dreams that you dream of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arius runs into some trouble again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for guns/light gun violence. stay safe ily!

One month. One entire month, and he hadn't heard a peep from Abel or Nox. It was infuriating, and it only worsened his mood to hear his calls go to voicemail each time he tried to reach out. Hell, he didn't even know if Abel was _alive._

He'd been narrowly avoiding getting fired from the Japanese-based restaurant at which he had miraculously gotten a job a few months ago. It was the same place Suko worked. It had reasonably hesitated to hire him at first, but they were short-staffed as it was. And so there he was, staring ahead with dead and empty eyes behind the front counter. He certainly wasn't their most charismatic cashier, but he got the job done and was quite good at counting out money. 

It was another day of waiting out his shift. It was Thursday, which meant it was one of his longer shifts during the week, so all he could really hope for was a quiet night before he could go home and drink before collapsing for the next six hours. 

The customers were mundane and oblivious. They ordered the same shit and made the same damn small talk. He was so _tired._ He kept picking at the black studs in his ears and tapping his fingernails against the smooth, clean surface of the counter. The clock was across the room, perched on the cream wall, and mocking him with each silent tick of the thinnest hand.

It was his bored ignorance that caused him not to pay much mind when the door chimed. He tried not to sigh loudly, raising his head to greet the customer. Before he even opened his mouth, he recognized the 'customer' and instant, fiery anger filled him. 

Damien approached the counter, wearing a long suit jacket over his usual formal attire and gloves over his hands. It was odd, considering how hot it was beginning to get in California, but who the hell was to question someone like _that?_

Arius chose not to say anything as he stopped at the other side of the counter. They made eye contact, solid eye contact that drew such a feeling of disgust from Arius that he wanted to vomit all over Damien's nice clothes. 

"Good evening," said the scum of the earth as if nothing was wrong. "Tonkotsu shoyu ramen to-go, please." He dipped his head to the side a bit in the way he did when he was curiously waiting for a reaction. 

Unfortunately, Arius didn't have enough self-control to not give him that reaction. "Weren't you here a few days ago? Don't you get tired of this shit? And what the _fuck_ is up with your clothes? It's pretty much summer, for fuck's sa-"

"Yes, I was here a few days ago. I come primarily to see Yasuko, though it appears to come with the consequence of your presence. Now, will you take my order or must I report your behavior to your superiors?" Damien replied coolly, smug as ever.

Arius grit his teeth and turned, yelling back to the kitchen what Damien had ordered and then turning back to glare coldly at him. He half expected Damien to be even closer like he usually was when someone looked away for a second, but the eerie thing was, Damien hadn't even moved. He just smiled cockily and stepped away from the counter, which... already had the correct amount of money on it, right down the cent. Great. Arius scraped it up and put it into the register. He punched the order into the register then and printed off the receipt with the order number. He slid it across the counter and then crossed his arms. 

Infuriatingly enough, Damien said absolutely nothing. He took the receipt with his dumb gloved hands and slipped it into his pocket as he always did, clasping his hands behind his back with mock patience. 

"Are you gonna sit down or just stand there?" Arius grumbled, pulling his upper lip into a sneer. 

Damien quirked an eyebrow. "Do you want me to sit?" 

Arius huffed and looked away. His eyes found their way back to the clock. Half an hour, then his shift would be over and he could... do something. He could at least get the fuck away from Damien, who would undoubtedly stay the rest of his shift just to talk to Yasuko and torture Arius. He _really_ didn't like how Damien was looking at him. It was like he knew what Arius thought, just whom Arius was mentally comparing him to.

Many painful minutes later, the takeout ramen was brought out of the kitchen by Yasuko. They beamed at Damien and handed it directly to him. "How's it going?" they asked, clearly glad to see him. It made Arius sick. He'd never known what part of Damien said 'friend' to them. 

"Evening, Yasuko. Time passes. And you?" Damien replied. The two of them made their way to a booth and sat. Arius tried to tune them out and glowered at the smooth granite of the counter he stood behind. If fucking only time would pass. It seemed to sit at a standstill, and he felt like he was rotting away. Usually, the customers around this time were few and far between, so all he was left to do was stand up by the register, waiting impatiently to clock out. 

After about ten minutes he dragged a stool up and sat, leaning his arms on the granite. "Hey," he said rather loudly, and Damien's eyes found his leisurely. "Got anything on Abel? 'Cause, you know, you remind me of the guy that texts me from his phone." There it was. As he expected, Yasuko immediately took offense.

"Arius, _christ,_ he's trying. Leave him alone," they scolded him. "And are you fucking accusing him of taking Abel? That's flat out ridiculous." Yes, that was _exactly_ what he was insinuating, and he wished Yasuko wasn't so loyal to that bastard.

"Yeah, I am. That or he knows a lot more than he's letting on," Arius said coldly, getting up from the stool and circling the counter to approach their table. Damien held his gaze steadily, unaffected. 

"I am afraid you are pursuing a red herring, darling. I may be your obvious suspect, but I would gain nothing from taking anyone captive. Unfortunately for you, I need you to trust me when I say that I am attempting to offer my help in this investigation."

"Shut. The fuck up. Honestly. You speak exactly like him. Is Nox familiar to you?" he continued to interrogate, planting his hands on the table and leaning forward on his arms. In this situation, Damien was below him, where he belonged.

"Nox? No. It does mean dark in Latin however, does it not?" Damien provided innocently. Arius had forgotten the bitch knew some Latin- there was no evidence to accuse him with there. "You are grasping at straws. Would you care to help find him rather than berate me with your nonsense?"

Yasuko narrowed their eyes at Arius as a warning. He narrowed his eyes right back at them. "I'm just saying, Suko. You should know better than anyone not to trust that bitch," he said snappily. Damien folded his hands, clearly unimpressed, and Suko couldn't possibly look more disappointed than they did at that moment.

"Jesus, Arius, lay off. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have the lead we have now."

" _What_ goddamn lead?" Arius asked, frustrated. "We've looked all over Medford!" 

"Undisclosed sources have informed me of movement, which is reinforced by common sense. Wherever your brother was, he is no longer there. I worry that may mean he is being brought out of the country, but as of now, we have no means of knowing his precise location."

"That's shady as fuck, you know? How would _you_ know that?" It was obvious, really, and at this point, Arius was saying these things out of spite. He knew Damien had shady connections- being a prostitute and a drug dealer, how could he not? But it was still suspicious. 

"Is it not obvious? Word from Chase reached Yasuko, which then found me. Abel told you his location, but as soon as you left to find him, you foolishly followed the directions of whoever has him captive and stopped at a park, under the impression of negotiation, to be nearly willingly beaten. Does that not look like stalling to you?" He had a point.

"Doesn't that mean he's been out of Medford for... months? He could be anywhere, for fuck's sake!"

"Yes," Damien said gravely. "That is what concerns me." Like hell it concerned him! Arius bit his tongue however and just sighed through his nose. He raked a hand through his hair, gripping it as if to pull it out. 

It was then that a customer decided to enter, and the bells chimed on the door as it was opened. Arius shot Damien one last death glare before retreating back to the counter, putting on his best 'I swear I don't absolutely despise you and also I'm definitely not high' face. "What can I get for you?" he asked politely.

The customer grunted, scanning the menu. He was stout but intimidating, his hair retreating as he balded and an unattractive mustache settled over his lips. He wore a black jacket, worn and dirty but still recognizable as an expensive leather. "Black coffee's fine, thanks. No sugar or anythin'," he said. Arius nodded and turned his back to prepare it himself, as the coffee machine was just behind the counter. The shop was dead silent, other than the clutter of dishes back in the kitchen, and it greatly unnerved Arius. 

By the time the coffee was prepared, the man had sat down near Yasuko and Damien. Damien was absolutely _glowering._ And the man just smiled heartily back. As Arius walked over with the receipt and the coffee, he could feel the tension between them like a taut string. "Three dollars, sir," he said bluntly, setting the steaming white cup and receipt down. The man nodded and silently gave him the money in cash. Arius walked away swiftly, not wanting any part in whatever the fuck was going on there.

Less than ten minutes until his shift was over. Arius slumped on the stool behind the register and took out his phone.

> **Arius:**
> 
> shady motherfucker said abel might have been moved somewhere

It was read almost immediately, but she didn't begin typing in response for a good minute. It seemed like an unnecessarily long time to type for the message she finally sent thirty seconds later.

> **Quinn:**
> 
> Whos the shady motherfucker
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> his names damien and i fucking hate him
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Oh me too
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Hes probably right though
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> wiat you know him?
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> bruv hes rlly made a name for himself in the underground
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> great! where the fuck woudl they be taking abel
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Honestly kid I have no clue
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> fuck
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> well what do you know about damien
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> idk if he kidnapped abel but it seems like some shit hed do
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Lmao he would, but I dont think so
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> From what Ive heard hes busy dealing with some dumbasses who refuse to pay him for expensive cocaine or wtv
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> is that why he looks so tired
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Idk probably

Arius sighed, his only suspect pretty much disproven. He stood up, glancing at the ever-ticking clock. He could leave a few minutes early, nobody would care. "I'm going home, Suko," he said shortly as he walked past. Nobody responded to him. He rolled his eyes, flinging open the door and causing loud chimes from the small bells. The door fell shut behind him and the soothing white noise of the quiet shop was promptly cut off by the distant sounds of cars and wind combing through the leaves of the trees lining the street. 

The street was dark and rather empty. Arius chose not to take a taxi this time, as home wasn't too far away and he needed some fresh air. Things were quiet, so he could hear the gentle scrape of his sneakers against the sidewalk every once and a while, accompanying his footsteps. It had been a month since he'd been assaulted or heard from Nox at all, so he wasn't too worried about an ambush. Still, he felt uneasy being out here in the dark alone.

So he called the only person who'd still be awake and more than willing to talk.

"Hey Chase." He'd picked up on the first ring. The poor guy seriously had nothing better to do.

" _Dude! What's up?_ " Chase answered in his classic way. His voice carried fatigue, but he wasn't slurring any of his words. It seemed that Arius had caught him on a rare night where he was sober, unless he was hiding it really well. But Chase wasn't one to hide his inebriation, especially from Arius. " _You good?_ "

Far from good, but whatever. "Yeah," he replied, looking around to be greeted by the still-empty streets. "Just got off my shift. Douchebag McGee himself decided to walk in last minute and distract Suko, so I'm walking home."

There was a dissatisfied grumble from the other end; Chase knew exactly who he was talking about. " _If I had my driver's license I'd totally pick you up. Do you want to... uh... come over? I was gonna order pizza and stuff if... yeah. No? Yeah?_ " Arius wanted to consider the offer. He really did, because company was what he needed right now and hanging out with Chase sober could be... nice, if that was the right word. But right now he was too tired and too full of thoughts to keep up banter and deal with Chase's feelings.

"No. I've just gotta go home tonight. We can still talk on the phone or whatever though," he assured, going out of his way to snap a twig beneath his shoe. He heard Chase sigh through his nose on the other end of the line, but he perked up only seconds later.

" _Okay! That's fine. Guess I'll have to eat the pizza myself, that's unfortunate,_ " he joked, and Arius gave a small snort in response. " _But, um, did you need anything? Like- I hope that wasn't rude- but you called, and I thought you didn't like talking to me, so... yeah! What's up? Oh god, I already said that already, oh no I said already twice, uh- what's poppin', squad?_ "

"Oh my god, Chase, shut up," Arius snickered. "Just wanted to talk on my way home. What're you up to?"

There was a pause on the other end, and then Chase giggled a bit. " _You, uh- you care? Is there really no ulterior motive here?_ " he asked incredulously, and Arius rolled his eyes.

"Don't fuck it up. You're already making this weirder than it needs to be."

Another laugh; Chase seemed giddy. " _Cool! Rad! Alright! Well, I've actually just been playing Minecraft. Sad, right? Dunno. Guess I'm really bored. I have like, twelve dogs. I've been looking for pumpkins for_ ages _because I want to make snow golems. A jungle would be cool too. But this world sucks, so I'm just hanging out in a boring plains biome killing sheep. I've already-"_

"Christ. Anything other than Minecraft?" Arius interrupted, smiling a little to himself. Time passed faster when he was talking to Chase, even if it was some dumb conversation or a one-sided rant, and he noticed that he was about halfway home.

" _Not really. Kinda just... thinking about you. Semicolon parenthesis._ "

"You are _so_ fucking dumb."

Chase laughed again. He had very boisterous, contagious laughter when he was in a good mood, when his laughter wasn't bitter, when he wasn't pretending to be happy for everyone else. Arius wiped his mouth, and when he dropped his hand he wasn't smiling anymore; it was a thing he did sometimes, almost like he was smothering his smile or physically wiping it off his face. That didn't mean he wasn't amused, he just didn't want to smile. 

A truck crested the hill ahead and blinded him with its headlights before passing him by. It startled him, as the road had been empty for most of his walk. It seemed to pose no threat, however, and soon enough it was out of his sight.

" _No, but seriously. I found some old notes on my phone that I wrote... like... about you. Oh my god, I was_ whipped _. Like, more than I am now. For whatever reason that I am. I got so fucking pissed when you... I mean. Anyway, there's like two skeletons over there... and a creeper... do you think I can get a music disc?"_

Arius rolled his eyes. "Chase. Your feelings... aren't invalid." Well, that was probably the one and only time he'd say that. He didn't know why he said it. To make Chase feel better? But since when had he cared?

" _Uh, you tripping? Last time I checked, you- hah. Well. You know. But it's nothing, it was literally years ago."_

"Yeah? Well, I need to get my mind off of bitchass and... Abel. Humor me," he said offhandedly.

" _Do you seriously want to talk about my stupid crush? Sorry, Arius, but I know you don't care. I love you dude, but you're probably gonna turn it on me anyway."_ That... kind of hurt, unexpectedly. But Arius should have known by then that his actions had consequences, and Chase wasn't brainless. 

He sighed, and answered, "I know. I'm an ass. But, uh. I... don't... hate you? You're still kinda fun to be around. And it's not like I have anyone else right now that doesn't hate my guts."

Chase snorted. " _That last part you're right about. Surprised you don't hate me, though. I guess I've tried really hard to hate your guts, but... you're the only one who gives a shit about me or my life, even if you don't act like it, and... yeah. Not gonna get sentimental. But thanks."_

Huh. Heartwarming. Arius hummed, not really agreeing or disagreeing. "That's sad. But same, I think...." 

"OH MY GOD ARI I GOT DIAMONDS I CAN FINALLY PLAY STAL!" 

Arius laughed, mostly in shock. "Okay? Let's hear it."

"Hold onnnn! I gotta get back to the surface for my disc!" Chase whined, and Arius smiled.

They continued to chat as Chase played Minecraft, occasionally commenting on it. It was a little annoying, but whatever made him happy. It was working, though, to take Arius's mind off of everything. He was even feeling a little better. He thought maybe, just _maybe_ he'd sleep well tonight. 

He was almost home when he heard the loud rumble of an engine. He glanced at the road ahead to see a large truck cresting the hill. He was about to pay it no mind when someone shoved a pistol out of the window and began to fire upon him.

The shots were loud, ringing in his ears louder than Chase's voice. Arius was ashamed to admit that he screamed, ducking in a panic as the bullet hit the brick above him and rained particles down. He sucked in a sharp breath as one whizzed by right in front of him- it would have gone directly into his skull if he had been one step forward.

There were only four shots. Then he heard laughter, and the truck was quickly out of sight. Arius hadn't taken note of the license plate or the possible model. He could hear Chase panicking from the phone he now held clutched at his side, but he didn't answer. He bolted for the door of the apartment building and all the way up the stairs without a coherent thought.

His breathing was ragged as he unlocked the door and stumbled into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He staggered into the nearest seat, one of the creaky chairs at the kitchen table, and lifted his hand from his stomach to reveal blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

The adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay until he looked at it. That was when the burning kicked in. He doubled over, resting his forehead on the table. It was white-hot, not the most painful thing he'd felt, but certainly painful. 

" _ARIUS WHAT THE FUCK!_ " he heard Chase yelling from the phone, which was slipping out of the grasp of his sweaty fingers. Arius slapped the phone down on the table, taking in shaky breaths.

"I-I- they got me," he breathed, still clutching his stomach. "I think... I think it's... a graze... h-holy shit."

" _WHAT? W- ARIUS! GO TO THE HOSPITAL!_ " Chase was scared. He could hear that clear as day in Chase's voice. He almost felt bad for making Chase panic, but it was decidedly not Arius's fault. 

He shook his head, then forgot that Chase couldn't see him. "Hh- no, it's... okay... I'll text Glenn...." With that, he did text Glenn, with Chase still on call begging him to go to the hospital or staunch the blood flow. 

> **Arius:**
> 
> just gt shot atcan yuo come to the aparment

"I'll be okay," Arius said doubtfully, slowly getting to his feet and looking for a clean washcloth. He put Chase on speaker before going to the drawer and pulling out one with ugly flower patterns on it. He ran it under the faucet until it was cold and wet, then pulled up his shirt and tried to wipe away the blood. He hissed in pain and had to brace himself against the counter as he pressed it to the wound. 

His phone buzzed on the table and he slowly made his way to it. 

**Glenn:**

> Oh my god I'm so sorry! I have a late shift in the office today- I promise I'd help in every other circumstance but right now I'm going to send Grace over. One of them is medically proficient. Apply pressure to the wound, hang in there!

Great. Arius hardly knew Grace, he'd only heard her name and that she had a bunch of personalities. Well, that wasn't how Glenn explained it, but fuck, he didn't care or remember right now. And he really didn't trust her with this. But if Glenn couldn't come over, his recommendation was the next best option.

" _Should I come over?_ " Chase asked desperately after a silence. 

Arius sighed. "No. Someone's a-already coming. Just- play Minecraft... eat pizza or whatever." It was difficult to speak, each breath feeling like it was forcing more blood out. 

Thankfully, it didn't bleed more than a cut anywhere else. But its location made him admittedly afraid, the fact that there was blood oozing from a wound just above some of his vital organs. He'd gotten lucky.

" _I- okay. Okay. Um... first aid. Are you stopping the blood?_ "

"Yeah, that's like the first thing I did... just... chill. Someone's hopefully... gonna help." He felt faint. The adrenaline had completely disappeared at this point, leaving him a shaking, pained mess. It was all so _sudden_... he sat down again and tried to collect himself. "I'm going... to strangle Nox... with my bare hands...."

" _So you think it was him again?"_

Arius grunted. He hadn't even considered that maybe it _wasn't._ "Yeah. Hell, I can... can text the bitch." And so he did, ignoring Chase's immediate protests.

> **Arius:**
> 
> yyou se nt the peopel with guns didnt you
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> im nnot fuckin g dead if thats what yuo wanted

He was used to Nox replying almost instantly, so when he didn't, it only aggravated Arius more. He set the phone back on the table and groaned quietly as he leaned over and rested his forehead on the table, holding the cloth to the graze. " _Ari? Are you sure I shouldn't come over?"_ Chase worried. 

"It's fine. I won't bleed out, it just... hah. It fuckin' hurts." 

_"I... bet it does. Just hold on. Keep talking to me, please? That was fucking scary."_

"Whatever helps you," Arius said, his voice strained, resting his head on his free arm. He didn't say it aloud, but he wanted to keep talking to Chase too. He didn't want to be alone in this empty apartment after being grazed with a bullet, waiting for... Grace, or _somebody,_ to show up. Hell, he could take care of it on his own... uh, that was a lie. 

Someone knocked at the door, rapidly but orderly. Arius almost cried out in relief, slowly pushing himself up with his hand. He hobbled over to the door and unlocked it with a shaky hand, making it almost impossible to put the key into the keyhole, but he managed. He pulled it open to see the round-faced brunette he'd only seen like once. "Grace?"

"Oh, no, friend. My name is Saxton. It would be a pleasure to meet you, but- oh dear! It is worse than I thought. Now, now, come along- take a seat, I beg, and I will fix you right up!" said... Saxton. He spoke with a baritone and regal voice, though it was odd because it was still somewhat in Grace's voice, so it came off a little feminine. He held a colorful jacket draped over his arm like a butler would carry a towel. His hair was done up in a quick but neat bun, leaving no strands dangling. He had tucked his shirt into his jeans. 

It seemed that Arius was lingering too long on the strangeness of Saxton altogether because Saxton let himself in and shut the door carefully. He placed a splayed hand on Arius's back and very gently led him to the coffee table. "Um? What're you-" 

"Ah, ah- stay there a moment, dear fellow, a dark towel should do...." Saxton said, seemingly to himself, as he powerwalked to the bathroom (how did he even know where it was?) and returned with two towels draped on his other arm and a first aid kit in his hand. He set down the jacket neatly and laid the towels on the coffee table. He patted them, appearing satisfied. "Lie down, please? I understand it may be uncomfortable, but I do not fancy staining something that cannot be easily cleaned." 

Arius furrowed his eyebrows. He slowly sat down on the coffee table and leaned back, groaning slightly in pain. His legs hung off the edge, feet touching the floor. It was definitely uncomfortable. Saxton rushed to place a pillow beneath his head, from the couch. "Okay? Can you uh- bring my phone? It's on the table," Arius requested. The... man, he supposed, did as he asked. Chase's voice quickly came through the speaker.

" _Who else is there? Are you still doing okay? Ari?"_ Hearing this, Saxton smiled slightly. It looked fond and knowing- his eyes had a strange way of twinkling. He pulled Arius's shirt up to his chest, revealing more of the blood. He pressed his lips together in slight concern.

"I, uh... have you met Grace or anyone in her body? I'm with Saxton, I guess. He- ah, jesus _christ,_ what the fuck!" Arius yelled as Saxton began to gently take something from the shallow wound with tweezers. 

"My apologies, sir, a bullet graze often leaves materials in the wound and creates a quintessential infection zone. I implore you to stay as still as you can, this will only take a moment!" he promised, so Arius clenched his fists and tried to do so, focusing on his phone.

_"I haven't! I kinda want to meet them, though. A-Anyway, is there a way I can distract you? I can talk about Minecraft, or the pizza that just got delivered. You wanna hear about my pizza?"_

Arius suppressed a smile. "Sure, whatever. Go off."

" _Cool! So, I made it to the surface and made a jukebox. I put in Stal, and now I'm just vibing with my pizza. It's cheese. I don't remember ordering an extra gallon of grease, but that's just how it is, isn't it? I also got Mountain Dew because I'm not really in the mood to get drunk off my ass tonight, you know? It's kinda gross but whatever."_

He couldn't believe Chase was talking to him about Minecraft and pizza while Arius was getting ripped fabric carefully taken out of his wound, like that surgery board game that had the guy with the red buzzer nose. It was almost comical. When Arius looked, he could see that Saxton was concentrating, signified by the narrow of his eyes. He set aside the tweezers and reached into the first aid kit for a small bottle and a soft material to dab the antiseptic on with. Arius winced in advance.

 _"Still doing okay?"_ Chase checked in again, worry gnawing at his tone.

"Uh, yeah, it's- it'll be fine. Go on," he replied unconvincingly. 

_"Okay, uh... wait, I know what'll distract you more! Okay, okay, do you remember when we stayed up until six in the morning because I wanted you to watch Harry Potter? We were watching like, all day, it was awful. And when we ran out of snacks you went to the 24/7 gas station at like three and brought back so much shit. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep for the Order of the Phoenix, probably the last two as well."_

Arius remembered. He smiled slightly, then winced as Saxton dabbed at the blood around the wound. He'd almost forgotten that Saxton was there, and he felt suddenly self-conscious of their conversation, which Saxton could easily tune into if he wanted. Still, Saxton looked too concentrated to care. "Y-Yeah," he pushed out. "That was so fucking chaotic. Was that before or during the time we were together?"

For a moment, Chase went quiet, and Arius feared he'd made a mistake. Then he answered, _"Before, I'm pretty sure. I was pining the entire time and I remember using exhaustion as an excuse to sleep on you."_ He giggled, and Arius huffed. 

"You were really petty and desperate, it was funny." 

_"Mm. Some things never change."_

They were silent. 

"I am going to decontaminate this. Are you quite alright?" Saxton piped up, meeting Arius's eyes soberly. Arius nodded in confirmation. Saxton tried to smile- it was a handsome smile, but unreadable. The younger looked away and braced himself.

He was right to brace himself. It stung, real bad, and he clenched his teeth to avoid making noise. He wanted to squirm but didn't. He was impressed at his own self-control at that moment. 

"The wound appears desterilized," Saxton said after about ten seconds of gently disinfecting the area. "I believe a bandage would finish up our work here." 

"Cool," Arius grunted in a tone that he knew would come across as disinterested. Saxton didn't look amused, but he nodded. He gently helped Arius sit up and began to wrap the bandages around his torso. 

_"Hey, uh, Ari?"_ came the voice from the phone. Arius had almost forgotten he was there. He made a noise to let Chase know he had at least heard. _"I was wondering... this might be too soon or... I mean, I'm... I don't know. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend? Maybe we would see a movie?"_

"Chase-"

_"Y'know what? Just kidding. It was a stupid question. You told me not to get any ideas about you, and um, I should respect that. Sorry."_

"No, shut the fuck up. I'll go."

 _"H-Huh? Are you sure?"_ The genuine shock in his voice was pretty sad.

"I don't do shit just to make people happy, Chase. I want to go."

_"R-Right! Cool! Holy shit. I should... probably let you rest. Right?"_

"Yeah, sure. Go eat your pizza or whatever before I bleed out through my ears from listening to you."

Chase laughed, giddy, and wished Arius a good night before hanging up. It reminded Arius of their first actual date. Both of them were awkward, even if Arius wasn't showing it, but Chase had trouble containing his excitement the entire time. It was cute.

He didn't want to believe that old feelings were resurfacing. He'd told himself that he was done with Chase. And yet, years later, here they were. It was appalling. However now Arius realized that in his anger, he'd forgotten all that Chase was, how sweet and funny he could be, how damn much he cared about _everybody._

As Saxton meandered to the kitchenette, Arius pulled off his stained shirt and very carefully got himself onto the couch. He felt cleaner now, more secure, but it was still very uncomfortable. Arius looked at the bloodied towels on the coffee table, then back at Saxton. "Um, make yourself at home," he said sarcastically.

Saxton turned to him apologetically and bowed his head slightly. "My deepest apologies- I was merely seeking a bag in which to place the towels. I will take it to the laundromat as soon as I leave, rest assured," he said in that weird formal way of his. 

"Oh. They're... under the sink," Arius said, slightly embarrassed. Saxton bowed deeper in some sort of thanks before straightening out and heading toward the sink to retrieve a bag.

"Do you desire my departure?" Saxton asked as he took a large garbage bag out from under the sink and stood from his crouched position. 

"I don't care, I guess."

Once again Saxton smiled. "Then perhaps would you like some tea?" He strolled over and began to carefully collect the towels into the bag, along with the rag Arius had initially used to stop the blood and the shirt he'd been wearing. 

"Sure." He could definitely go for some tea right now. Suko made it a lot, and it had grown on him.

He was just about to settle down when his phone buzzed, and he turned it on without thinking at lightning pace. 

> **Nox:**
> 
> Oh, darling. You should know that a drive-by is not my style.

Well, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longest chapter smh


	29. come on and love me normally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yasuko gives their testimony and the defense attoney pushes his luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka i find an excuse to reveal more information

"During the time of the discussed events, were you not a chef at what is now known as Kodama's Ramen?"

Yasuko was solemn up at the witness stand, hands clasped in their lap. Their eyes flitted between the defendant and the victim, two friends, one of which had turned out to be so much viler than they could have dreamt. "Yes. I was one of the best employees and later came to own the business," they answered, monotone. Unusual. 

"Do you have anything else to add to Arius Donnelly's description of Mr. Fai's alleged visits to Kodama's Ramen?"

"Not much, no. He didn't have a regular order and sometimes asked me to surprise him. I noticed... after a while, he began to order the sushi that Abel really liked. And we'd mostly talk, just... the two of us, late at night, about whatever. Maybe I was blinded by my confidence in his morality, but I didn't notice anything off until Glenn started talking to me about it. There were a few times, though... someone suspicious came into the restaurant. He and... _Fai_ rarely spoke, but there was some tension. I didn't get anything out of the guy from interrogating him, I just came to the conclusion that he was one of Da- Fai's sour customers."

"Elaborate on the term you used there; customer."

"Oh, you didn't know? He's been a steady supply of illegal drugs since our school days, and I believe he started in 2003. He was also a prostitute and would be paid for other activities. There's got to be evidence of that somewhere." Yasuko smirked a bit, meeting the defendant's eyes. His expression was blank, curious if anything, but Yasuko knew the anger brewing in him quite well.

"Could you provide some information on the meeting that took place in your apartment on February 23rd, 2017?" 

Yasuko thought for a moment, then nodded. "Arius had just left. I let Chase stay in my room for a bit. I'd called earlier, so I wasn't surprised when Dami- Fai and William walked in. William Barns, that is. I made coffee for everyone and we sat down at the kitchen table. We talked about what we suspected had happened with Abel. William didn't know much, but he was the one to say that he didn't think Abel was being kept anywhere in the surrounding area, or Medford for that matter. Fai agreed and said it'd be a smart decision to keep Abel far away," they said, growing more bitter with each sentence. "He also said that police involvement is a bad idea."

"And did that arouse any suspicion?"

"To me? Unfortunately, no. None of us had ever been a fan of law enforcement. But I see why he actually said that now." They glowered at the defendant, who tilted his head. Their roles had shifted rather quickly. 

"Is there any more information you can provide for us?"

"Um, yeah, tons, but in relevance to the meeting? Not much. It did later come out that Fai blamed Arius for the disappearance, which is... crazy. And vise versa, I guess, but... we didn't listen to Arius. That was our biggest mistake. He knew it from the beginning. But that...he... he's so manipulative, I- I thought I was least likely to be a victim of that, but.... ugh."

"Thank you. I have no further questions for the moment."

The judge spoke up, "Does the defense have any questions?"

The opposing attorney stood, posture impeccable. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Proceed."

The attorney set down his papers and regarded Yasuko. "Is it true that you hindered the investigation being made by Glenn Oglive on the suspect?" 

They dropped their head for a moment, collecting themselves. "Yes, I... I was so confident that Fai wouldn't do something like that. We'd been friends for years. It was stupid, I just panicked," they admitted, face flushed with anger and shame.

"What makes you testify against your friend?"

"He- He's _not_ my friend," they snapped, voice louder than before. The prosecutor flinched at the noise. "He hurt Abel worse than I could fu- sorry- than I could imagine. He did all of that and has the audacity to say he was in _Europe_ the whole time."

"How do you plan to disprove the plane tickets purchased and used by my client in January of 2017? What makes your word stronger than the word of trusted employees confirming his presence in Europe and innocence in this investigation?"

"Forgery. It's that simple! He has connections, and honestly, he probably slept with most of those employees if they actually said that. It could have also been blackmail or bribery." They almost stood up, getting heated.

"No evidence has been brought forward to suggest that. Can you confirm the victim's history of mental illness?"

"I... yes. He's struggled from depression since... before I met him. But he's never really been a liar, not like this, and never been one for revenge. He _couldn't_ have done all of that to himself, physically. Especially not emotionally! He's not an actor," Yasuko answered firmly.

"Do you consider yourself to be gullible or susceptible to a bandwagon?"

"No. Absolutely not. Glenn would agree with me, I'm really stubborn, to a fault even." They looked over, and Glenn smiled sadly. 

"What made you so loyal to my client until you allegedly had concrete proof of his... betrayal?"

"This is... kind of personal. But, uh, I'll answer it the best I can. When I first met him, I didn't like him. He was arrogant, and never stopped being arrogant I guess. He tried to hit on me once, but I wasn't receptive, so we started talking normally. He was uptight, but because of my own parents, I kind of understood that. I made fun of him and he made fun of me right back. I can't tell you what he saw in me, but we became friends after a while. We'd hang out in the woods a lot, and I got to know him well. He wasn't pure evil like people thought, he was more... morally gray. Raised to be the way he is, adapting to the environment in the only way he knew. Which does not _at all_ excuse _anything_ he did. But I liked him, as a friend. He was kind toward me, and he would listen. I... ugh. Yeah, that's all I've got right now." Yasuko sighed, resting their head on their palm. 

The defendant was looking at them with interest and a small smile. Surprisingly enough, it was a smile that lacked menace, and to Yasuko, it looked even fond. But they felt nothing positive toward him anymore. 

"Very well. So Arius Donnelly chose to act the way he did, and he should be viewed the same way my client is? Both had difficult upbringings, though according to you, that should mean neither is more blameless than the other."

"That doesn't even make sense," Yasuko said sharply. "Both of them might have had it rough, but at some point, both had to choose to go down the paths they did. But unlike Fai, Arius did his best to change, and Arius didn't kidnap, assault, or traumatize anybody."

"Except he did. On the night of February 22nd, 2017, Arius Donnelly reportedly drunkenly sexually assaulted Chase Brady and left him in a state of distraught and depression."

Yasuko's cheeks flushed red with anger. "No, that's- it was consenting, Arius just initiated it abruptly. And he... he messed up, especially the morning after. But he apologized, and they're on really good terms now. It wasn't assault and shouldn't be classified that way."

"Has this not happened multiple times? Emotional and verbal abuse seems to be a common theme in Arius Donnelly's past."

"N-No! I mean, yes- but it's-"

"Excuse me," said the judge, and the entire room fell silent instantly. "This information does not pertain to the witness currently on the stand." Yasuko let out a breath and sat up a little straighter.

"My apologies, Your Honor," said the defense attorney, who had been knocked down a notch. "I have no further questions for the witness."

"Thank you... for this... opportunity," Yasuko said slowly, choosing their words carefully, and they were politely escorted out of the room as the next witness was called.

Marissa Magifica stood up, brushing off her skirt, and made her way quietly to the stand. 


	30. why don't you say so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we take a look into the relationships between some of these bastards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka me using these characters as therapy
> 
> warning for mentions of abuse when he leaves the room, lasts until they say "what do you say?"

__

_"Dude," Yasuko said, spinning around in the swiveling chair and using the desk as leverage. "You need to relax. Seriously. Not everyone's gonna think you're hot."_

_Damien exhaled smoke slowly. He was on his neatly made bed, one long leg bent, dark gaze cast upward at the ceiling as he smoked. "That wasn't the point," he replied testily. "It's that William prefers you over me." The other laughed, swinging around to look at him and propping their feet up on the desk. His eyes flitted to them instantly, warning. "Put your feet down, Yasuko." They whined but obliged._

_"Anyway, he literally doesn't. He's just not banging you. Are you really that attention-starved?" they giggled, adjusting their skirt._

_"You said I could tell you anything."_

_Their eyes softened. "Yeah, and I meant it, Dami. I'm listening, I promise," they affirmed, stopping the swiveling for a moment. Damien looked at them, eyes still as cold and unfeeling as ever, but a little smile tugged at his lips._

_"Thank you. It's not- it is not attention. When I speak to him, he looks away or changes the subject and speaks to you instead. He does not hate me, I dare to hope, but I don't- do not take kindly to being ignored."_

_"My man, you can drop the formal speak. I get it. But trust me, he doesn't hate you. You just make him nervous. I'm sure you'll warm up to each other, yeah?" They smiled a bit, the secret they'd been entrusted with on the tip of their tongue. But they would never betray Will._

_"Perhaps." He took another drag, then gently let the smoke out again._

_Suko paused, in thought, and then blurted, "Do you- do you like him?"_

_He looked taken aback by that, coughing once or twice on the smoke, or perhaps out of awkwardness. "No, I... I don't think so. I don't know. He's cute, both in appearance and behavior, but beyond that... I suppose I don't know him," he answered slowly, bemused by the question. Suko laughed, suddenly giddy. That was the most affirmative answer they'd ever gotten from him about loving somebody._

_"Holy shit, you totally do!"_

_"I do not."_

_"I'm begging you to ask him out, Dami," they insisted, grinning ear to ear._

_"I want to move away from this subject," Damien said bluntly, any trace of comfort removed from his tone. Suko's smile faded a bit, but their spirits weren't completely crushed._

_"That's fair," they said. "Whaddaya wanna talk about?"_

_He hummed in thought. The cigarette was held between two fingers, smoke curling delicately from the tip. It was an enrapturing sight. "If you're in the gossiping mood, love, what about that boy you sit next to? You never stop blushing when you're in a mile's radius of him," he teased, breaking Suko out of their peace. They immediately went the same shade as the fluffy bright red hair on their head._

_"Hey! You can't just ask a person about- okay, okay, I know," they laughed, seeing the raise of his eyebrow. "But yeah, we can talk about him, I guess. Um... he's really smart? And hot? I think he's pan, but I don't know. Maybe demi. I just pray to fuck he's not straight or gay or- y'know, anything that doesn't include me." They sighed, almost wistful._

_Damien snickered and covered his mouth in a somehow graceful way. When he collected himself, after taking another drag from the stick, he asked innocently, "You want him to be Yasuko-sexual?"_

_"Y'know what? Yeah! Sure!" they proclaimed, throwing their hands in the air dramatically. "He could step on me and I'd thank him!" Damien rolled his eyes at that, but he was smiling._

_"Well, I was wondering if-" Damien began, then fell utterly silent. Suko sent him a questioning look. He held up a finger in a gesture for silence, and in that quiet, both could hear voices downstairs. "Shit," Damien muttered, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He put the cigarette out in the tray beside his bed and slowly stood._

_"Uh, be careful," Suko said, worrying their bottom lip between their teeth. Damien just nodded, but he didn't look composed. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. They both knew the drill._

_Yasuko waited patiently at the broad mahogany desk. After a few minutes, they began carefully shifting through the papers covered in a neat, elegant font. It was curious, the way he wrote, but fascinating. They didn't particularly care, but his handwriting was kind of mesmerizing when it covered a whole page. They wondered how long he'd practiced. Not by his own volition, certainly._

_Downstairs, people shouted and argued in muffled voices. Though Suko couldn't make out what they were saying with clarity, all of them had a posh accent. Damien's seemed to intensify when he was around family. Voices escalated and then went quiet. Suko scowled and tapped their nails against the desk._

_All of them were cruel in their own ways, but Suko only cared about one of them. They weren't supposed to intervene, but... it was hard to stand by and listen. It infuriated Suko, what he had to go through. How, after a particularly bad night, he'd_ justify _the actions of his parents and the harshness of their reprimanding. Though he'd rather die than admit it, Suko knew that he harbored fear for his parents, despite his anger's overshadowing of the more sensitive emotions._

_They sighed and slumped in his chair, turning to drape their legs over one arm of it, taking out their Game Boy. What to do, what to do...._

_It had been twenty minutes by the time they'd gotten bored of Pokemon. Yasuko would wait no longer to let them sort it out themselves without knowing what was happening. They stood, careful not to let the chair bump the desk or cause any unnecessary noise, and slowly twisted the door handle. They emerged in the hallway and crept to the landing of the stairs, where the voices were much clearer, much louder._

_"You never cease to disappoint," the deepest hissed, and there was a bang, presumably either a hit or a fist landing on a table. "How long have you been whoring yourself out to the filth? How long have you been a sleazy faggot? Do you know how dangerous it is for the entire town to know that the mayor's son is gay?"_

_Yasuko's blood boiled, and it seemed that their friend felt the same, for he said coldly, "Since I was fifteen; does that bother you, father? I have gone under your upturned nose for a time you should be ashamed of, and that's_ my _choice alone."_

_"You disgust me. Not only that, but you are gay-"_

_"Bisexual!" Damien corrected him abruptly. "It allows for significant influence among-"_

_"Just as damaging," a feminine voice said indifferently. "You will cease your little activities immediately, and you will uphold the-"_

_"Father," he cut his mother off, cold but somehow smug. "You can't tell me you haven't had sex with a man for your own gain." Suko grinned a bit, proud._

_His mother's shriek was shrill when she replied incredulously, "Show more respect! What in god's name is wrong with you?"_

_The other voice rose to a higher volume. "Control your temper and accept criticism for once! We are trying to fix you!" he yelled, furious, and there was another loud noise. Suko could imagine that vile man slamming his hand onto the table, all high and mighty. "You may experiment or grapple for gain, but you have_ no _excuse for dating a_ boy _."_

 _"And you're one to talk! Get your head out of your ass,_ sir, _for I have no attachment to any of them nor do I care for your criticism._ " _His voice shook slightly at the end. It made Suko's stomach twist. But what made their stomach twist more was the sound of a slap. There was no sound of pain._

 _"You are_ sixteen, _Damien. Cease your childlike acts. You are not in control. You will not act out. You will not insult me or my integrity. Do. You. Understand."_ _Silence followed the unsaid threat. There was another sharp sound of a slap, urging compliance._

_"Yes, sir," he said finally, mocking defeat. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. It was apparently quite obvious to not only Suko because someone grunted as a punch was thrown. Again, no sound of pain other than the initial grunt. That kid was strong, and Suko admired it._

_"Grow up and stop whoring off your body to anyone who pays," chimed Damien's mother_ , _who was growing irritated with the argument._

_Damien snapped there. "You fucking hypocrite! You're no less of a prostitute than I am, woman."_

_Yasuko winced. From the noise, they could tell he got hit hard for that. They wrapped their arms around themself, circling their thumbs on their shoulders, and waited it out, listening to the family degrade each other. They were hardly a family, they were a twisted group of people, his parents especially, and had easily the most dysfunctional family dynamics Suko had ever seen._

_"You are a disappointment. A mistake, at the very least. You are damn lucky we did not cast you into the street to die as the urchin you are," his father fired at him. This time there was no response, no witty reply, no angry comeback. So his father continued to insult his very being. "Do not dare to call me father, for you are not my son until you begin to act like it. You are not my son until you act proper and until you obey for once."_

_There was once again silence. Suko wished more than anything to go down the stairs and teach Damien's parents a lesson, but they knew they were no match, and Damien had explicitly told them not to intervene in family matters. So they rocked back and forth on top of the landing, waiting impatiently. Their eyebrows felt stuck in a scrunched position._

_"My wife and I are going out now," came the final, curt words._

_"Yes, sir." His voice was more subdued this time, more monotone. Then a door slammed, and for a moment everything was still. Suko wondered if he was okay- they knew he would be fine, but... sometimes they still worried._

_Soon, however, Damien approached the stairs and glanced up at Yasuko. His tucked in long-sleeved shirt was more wrinkled than it had been when he'd gone downstairs, they knew it had to be bothering him. He narrowed his eyes, one of which looked about to bruise. "What part of not eavesdropping is so difficult for you to understand, Yasuko?" he asked rhetorically. Suko looked him up and down and saw that he'd put his hands behind his back, possibly hiding a quiver._

_"Just wanted to make sure you were okay."_

_"Shut it," Damien snapped and started up the stairs, pulling his hands from behind his back and letting one trail along the railing. It was steady._

_Suko crossed their arms and leaned against the wall, unafraid. But it didn't look like he cared anyway. He took their wrist in a firm but gentle hold as he passed and pulled them back toward his room. Suko stumbled for a second, cursing at him, but obliged, and upon entering the bedroom he shut the door harder than necessary._

_He let go of them then, going to sit on his bed with his head lowered, dark strands of hair covering his eyes. He was clearly hurt, and Suko felt nothing but anger for the people who had done this to him._

_"You know what they said was bullshit, right?" Suko said, slowly approaching and sitting down beside him. "The way they're treating you...."_

_"It's fine," he replied shortly, then corrected himself with bitterness. "It is fine."_

_They scoffed. "No, it's not, shut up. You know it's wrong. You can stay at my place." They were insistent on this. Damien just shook his head, providing no reason, but the reason was clear enough. He simply wasn't allowed to._

_The two sat in relatively calm silence for a while. Suko kept quiet to allow Damien to breathe and compose himself. They didn't stare when he slumped and put his head in his hands. Out of the corner of their eye, they could see his hands slide up into his hair and pull it away from his face, tugging in frustration._

_When he made a move to get up about five minutes later, Suko put a firm hand on his knee and he stopped. "What?" he snapped, eyes burning into them. They weren't affected._

_"What're you doing?"_

_"I need to work." He gestured toward the papers on his desk. When he did so, Suko could see that his hands were shaking, if only slightly._

_Suko sighed. "Dami... just relax for a while, okay?" they pleaded. He scowled, but complied with their wishes, leaning back until he was lying on the bed with his legs folded over the edge, shoes touching the floor. Suko lied down next to him._

_The pair stared at the ceiling. "We should go stargazing sometime," Suko suggested, trying to make conversation to draw Damien out of whatever pit he'd fallen into. He grunted, seemingly in agreement._

_They listened to Damien's breathing. It was slow but not controlled, faltering every once and a while. The breath stuttered from his lips. Suko turned their head to look at him. His chest rose and fell as steadily as he could make it. His hair had fallen away from his face, revealing a few scratches on his cheeks and a red area forming around his eye. Noticing their stare, he said, "Could you conceal it?"_

_"There's no poi-"_

_"I was considering inviting William over. It should be concealed."_

_"Ah." Suko smiled a bit at the thought of their friend. They patted Damien's soft wave of hair, making him swat at their hand. They giggled and got up, venturing into the attached bathroom and pulling open the drawer that they knew contained the makeup, and most importantly, the concealer. Upon retrieving the bag, they turned to go back into the bedroom and saw that Damien was already at the chair of his desk. He watched them, face unreadable._

_They set down the bag on the desk and righted Damien's chair a bit so he was fully facing them. "Close your eyes, dumbass," they said, poking him in the forehead, and he made a small 'hmph' noise before doing so. He looked more approachable when his eyes weren't burning into everything he looked at. If it weren't for the little scrunch of his eyebrows and the slight downturn of his lips, he'd look peaceful._

_Both were quiet as Suko applied the makeup. They had gotten pretty good at it, as had Damien, but they knew he trusted Suko to do it, and he wouldn't be able to do it well with his hands shaking._

_"Damien," they said out of nowhere as they were blending the makeup with his skin. He cracked the other eye open to look at them. "I want to get out of here. Run away."_

_"As wonderful a fantasy that is, I lack faith in the idea of succeeding." He let out a small sigh from between his lips, closing the eye he'd peeked open to look at them with._

_They frowned. "What'dya mean?"_

_"Would you... plan on going alone?" He sounded a little concerned for a moment._

_"What? And leave you here? Dude, no way. I was thinking it could be me, you, Will, Glenn, and maybe even Mari if she's interested. I think it'd be fun. Just the five of us trekking along, going somewhere we haven't even heard of," Suko said wistfully, pausing for a moment in their work to stare at Damien, at the way he almost deflated at their words._

_His hand found theirs, careful not to touch the makeshift palette on their arm, and he squeezed gently. "That sounds lovely, Yasuko," he began, and they knew a 'but' was coming. "But I cannot go." There it was._

_"Why the hell not? Leave everything behind. Your parents can fuck themselves, Dami, I really couldn't- I mean, I can't determine how you feel, but still. I wanna get out of here and bring you with me."_

_"Perhaps nobody would search for you, but that is not the case for me. I would only endanger your journey. I have matters to attend to here."_

_"It'd be a shitty journey if you weren't there. I'm not leaving without you."_

_"Then I am sorry."_

_Suko sighed and patted him on the shoulder, continuing their work, but this time in silence. They carefully withdrew their hand from Damien's grasp to access a blending tone._

_When they determined that the beginning of the bruise around the eye was hidden to anyone who wasn't looking for it, they started on the scratches. The marks weren't bleeding anymore, but Suko still had to very carefully get it closed up enough so that the makeup wouldn't get into the wounds and infect them._

_Ten minutes later, they leaned back and put their hands on his face, turning it to observe their work. "I think it's done," they announced proudly, seeing no obvious signs of the fact he'd been hit a few times._

_"Okay," he said simply, leaning over to pick up his phone as Suko gathered the supplies back into the bag and retreated to the bathroom to wash their arm off. When they returned, they poked him in the forehead. He reeled back, confused and irritated._

_"What do you say?" they teased. He rolled his eyes._

_"Thank you, oh gracious deity," he replied sarcastically, and they giggled out a 'damn right' as they flopped onto his bed. They propped their legs up on the headboard and put their hands behind their head, dark eyes wandering the ceiling as Damien tried to dial Will. "I despise these things," he muttered, referencing the little phone in his hand._

_Suko smirked. "You're just old," they said, drawing out the last word._

_"I am not even an entire year older than you," he scoffed in return._

_"Old," they repeated stubbornly. Damien sighed. He stood and sat beside Suko when he'd finished calling Will, waiting for the other to pick up. Suko scooted closer to the phone, grabbing at Damien's arm to bring it down and hold it between the two of them. He obliged with an eye roll._

"Yo, uh, hi? Damien? What's up?" _Will said from the other end once he'd picked up. He indeed sounded nervous._

_"Good eve-" Damien was in the process of saying when Suko gave an excited greeting at the same time. They shot looks at each other, playfully angry. Will laughed, that delightful sound not even diminished by the audio quality._

_"_ Hi, guys," _he said, more relaxed than before. "_ I just got out of the bath. Timing, huh?"

_"Aw hell yeah! So you good to come over? To Damien's?" Suko asked, clapping their hands together._

_His reply came quickly._ "Oh! I think so!"

_"Then get your sweet ass over here, dude!"_

_"You are obscene," Damien chimed in, and Suko winked up at him._

"Cool, okay, your boy is on his way. By the way, I'm wearing my Shoes, TM." _The Shoes TM was a pair of obnoxiously bright and tacky shoes with such a thick base that they were practically platform shoes, making up for what he didn't have in natural height. Will had even put stickers on them. Damien groaned at the mention of them- he hated those things. They hurt his eyes. Suko thought that was the funniest thing._

_Then Will hung up, and Damien lied down with Suko, their head by his thigh as they looked up at the ceiling. A comfortable silence fell between the friends as they waited for the last cornerstone of their trio._

_The window had been cracked open since Suko had gotten there. The air was fresh, albeit warm, and carried the scent of a freshly mowed lawn. Suko inhaled deeply, quite enjoying the smell._

_"I've got a genuine question for you," they said out of nowhere after a few minutes of quiet thought. Damien hummed, showing that he was listening. "Do you think things will get better? For all of us?"_

_That seemed to take him a few moments to register, and he only answered about twenty seconds later, "I... do not know. I can only hope. For the two of you, I believe things will get better. For myself, however, I hold unfortunate doubt."_

_"Why?"_

_"I am hindered by myself and my lifestyle, Yasuko. Things will not change."_

_"Do you want them to change?" They craned their neck to look at him earnestly. He looked at them right back._

_Conveniently, that was when something small hit the window. Damien sat up, clearly bothered at the disturbance as well as the risk to his window. He hurried to the source, peering down, and his previously tight grip on the windowsill relaxed._

_Will yelled from the ground, "WHAT'S UP SLUTS!" That cued Suko to laugh and spring to their feet, joining Damien at the window. They saw their friend down on the grass as expected, a big grin framed by wavy brown hair that reached his shoulders. He was holding a tacky backpack covered in stickers and patches, part of his trademark fashion._

_Damien grabbed a rope ladder and pulled open the window more in order to throw it down. They could both hear Will snort as he saw it unfurl in front of him. Damien looked away in slight shame. Everyone knew it was kind of ridiculous, but it was fun, at least to Suko and Will, and Damien wouldn't argue with them. So Damien held it steady as the brown-haired boy began to scale up the house on the unsteady ladder. Suko helped pull him in and gave him a bro hug, giving his still wet hair a sniff. He stepped back with a giggle. "Rude! Those are my luscious locks!" he cried out._

_"Yum," Suko replied, shooting him a grin and flopping back down on the bed. He took off his backpack and did the same, messing up the sheets and blanket on the bed even more as he adjusted, putting a gray pillow under his head and stretching his arms to the side obnoxiously. He let one hang off the bed while the other rested on Suko's stomach. He had effectively starfished on the bed._

_Uncomfortable, Damien pulled up the ladder and set it neatly in the corner beneath a slightly raised dresser. As Will began to chat with Suko about his day, Damien sat at the desk and began to work, leaving them to it._

_"No, seriously! I almost cried!" Will was saying. Suko stuck out their tongue at him and he did the same. They grinned, then told him he was just being a baby, and he pouted. "I'm a grown man! Can't you see how burly I am?"_

_"Consider: no," they said, and he gently whapped them on the top of the head. They did the same to him, and he promptly initiated a catfight. "Oh, I see how it is," Suko exclaimed, and grabbed one of Damien's pillows to hit him with. War was declared. Will grabbed the pillow out from under his own head and sat up, swinging it violently. Suko started laughing, giddy._

_"Please refrain from the destruction of my bedroom," Damien interrupted them, suddenly right beside the bed, taking hold of both pillows and holding them still. Will whined and pulled at his end of the pillow in a desperate attempt to recover his weapon. Suko saw what he was doing and started to pull as well. They nearly threw Damien off balance, but he remained stoic, unmovable._

_Will finally let go and fell back, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. "Woe is me, woe is me... for my arms are nothing but chub," he declared dramatically, though Suko wasn't giving up, still fighting for the pillow._

_"What a killjoy," Suko complained when Damien, at last, tore the pillow from their grasp. "At least come sit with us!" He grumbled in return, turning to retreat to his desk, but Suko leaped up and grabbed him into a surprise hug. He smelled strongly of expensive cologne, the scent hitting them instantly. He instinctively threw them off more roughly than necessary. He turned around when they stumbled back, taking a moment to register what had happened before saying something._

_"I'm- fuck. My apologies, Yasuko," he said, setting down the two pillows and stepping forward awkwardly. Will just stared from the bed, uneasy. Suko shrugged it off, used to his reactions at this point, and drew him into a more expected hug. He returned it gingerly. Will stood up and joined in, draping his arms over both and turning his head to rest it on Suko's. They gave him a side smile. "I will sit with you, then," agreed Damien reluctantly after a few seconds of this._

_The two cheered and withdrew, Suko throwing themself onto the bed and getting comfortable while Will looked at Damien and waited for him to sit. He did so, and Will sat beside him, lying down with his knees folded over the edge of the bed. His hair splayed out around his head, becoming softer as it dried._

_Suko watched with bated breath as Damien shifted back to sit cross-legged and run his fingers through Will's hair. Will jumped at first, then looked up at Damien and went pink. "Hi," he said, and Damien huffed in a sort of laugh._

_"Hi," he said in return, and Will grinned, blushing even more than he had been before. Suko just sat cross-legged, chin cupped in their hands as they pretended not to be staring eagerly at them. They'd been wanting the two to get together for ages. It was a perfect pair, a yin and yang of a couple, a raven and a dove. Also, they were cute together. And lord knows Damien needed someone to love._

_"I need to piss," Suko excused themself bluntly, making Will snicker immaturely while Damien barely acknowledged it. The guys were shifted a bit as Suko got up from the bed and merrily skipped off to the attached bathroom, closing the door and turning on the lights. They tried to give the two privacy, sitting on the closed toilet lid and again pulling the Game Boy from their jacket and booting up Pokemon. They hoped that the guys couldn't hear the beeps from the game._

_It was a few minutes before they decided that they actually needed to take a piss. So they set the Game Boy on the counter and did so, frowning and looking away from what they'd been born with. They hated it, they hated standing to go. But there wasn't much else they could do._

_When they'd washed their hands and finally exited the bathroom, Will's head was in Damien's lap, and Will was laughing at something, his eyes closed as his hair was played with. "Sup homos," Suko greeted, giving them finger guns. Damien looked up and raised an eyebrow, while Will opened his eyes and gave them finger guns back._

_"Were you playing Pokemon in there?" Will accused, grinning._

_"Maybe," Suko said, turning off their Game Boy and shrugging. "I'm kinda surprised you two weren't making out when I got back." Will went bright red and instantly hid his face behind his hands, laughing. Suko giggled at his reaction._

_Damien rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "If only," he replied, and Will squeaked out a panicked 'what?' from behind his hands. He peeked between his fingers to look up at Damien, who smirked. "Nothing, dear. You are cute, is all," he said, which only made Will more flustered._

_"W-Well you're not getting this sweet piece of ass, fuckboy. I'm not like everyone else!" Will declared, and Damien smiled, almost affectionately._

_"I do not want you to be like everyone else."_

_Will groaned. "Christ, why do you sound like you're flirting whenever you say anything?"_

_"It's what he does," Suko butted in, sitting down beside them. "Terrifying, I know."_

_"Whatever," Will sighed, and then perked up. "Dude, can you get my bag? I brought sustenance." Suko gasped dramatically and did so, unzipping it themself. There was indeed candy inside, along with a few cans of soda that probably got jostled on the way over._

_"You're literally Jesus," they said, taking out a Hershey's bar and unwrapping it. "I'm never gonna go hungry." Will grabbed his bag then and took out a sucker, throwing them a wink._

_Classic Damien, of course, warned, "Avoid making a mess."_

_"Whatever, dad," Will said sarcastically, and Damien gave him a sly look. Will then laughed and went, "Oh my god, shut the fuck up." Suko got it a few seconds later and laughed too._

_Suko lied down, putting their head on Damien's knee, and he sighed as he moved a hand to Suko's hair as well, brushing through the curls. "I did not sign up for this," he muttered, and they just grinned up at him._

_The trio lied there for a while. At some point, Suko started humming, and Will joined in, though he was somehow completely out of tune. Then he went quiet, and after a few minutes, the remaining two discovered that he'd fallen asleep. Damien laughed in his short, quiet, exhaling way, smoothing the hair away from Will's forehead._

_"So do you think we can stay the night?" Suko asked, sitting up and crumpling the Hershey's wrapper in their hand. Damien took a moment to consider that, looking down at Will's peaceful and prone form._

_"I suppose," he agreed, "if your parents-"_

_"My parents can fuck themselves," Suko cut in. "And Will's don't care. So we're good." Damien shrugged, accepting the answer. Suko grinned and bounced up, retrieving the pillows and throwing one at Damien. He caught it, glancing down at Will to make sure the sudden motion hadn't awakened him. He was still asleep. He'd always been a heavy sleeper._

_Suko was glad they'd decided not to wear overalls or jeans that day, as that would have been uncomfortable to sleep in. They took off their jacket, pulling their t-shirt out of its place tucked into their skirt, and threw themself onto the other side of the bed, facedown into a pillow. They turned their head, watching Damien ever-so-carefully get up and shift Will fully onto the bed. He quietly took some neatly folded clothes from his dressed and retreated into the bathroom._

_In the time he was gone, Will started to stir. He reached out a hand and patted the space around him, furrowing his eyebrows. "Morning, babe," Suko said, and he rolled over, opening his eyes to see them. He smiled a bit._

_"What up?" he asked, scooting more onto the bed so his head was on the pillow Damien had previously caught and placed down._

_"Dami said we could stay the night, so, y'know. Get comfy," they answered, and he giggled. They quirked an eyebrow with an inquiry, but they couldn't help but smile back at him._

_"How are we all gonna like... fit on this bed?" Will asked. They were comfortably spaced at the moment, as it was a queen-sized bed, but he wasn't sure how well they'd be able to manage with the three of them._

_Suko shrugged. "I'm baby. We'll be fine. You can sleep in the middle if you're worried about falling off," they assured him, and he considered it. Then he shrugged like he was saying 'why not?' and shifted closer to Suko, settling in the middle of the bed and rolling onto his back, starfishing. Suko laughed as he spread his limbs, accidentally whacking Suko and ending up with his leg resting over theirs while the other two limbs took over the rest of the bed. "You're such a lanky piece of shit," Suko whined, but it was all in good fun._

_"I'm sleepy. Baby needs comfy sleep," he said and promptly yawned. Suko managed to curse at him once before they yawned as well, swatting at him._ _Then they both settled down and Will closed his eyes again._

_A few minutes later Damien emerged from the bathroom, clothed in more comfortable black pants and a t-shirt. It seemed he'd combed his hair again, which Suko had to hold back a snort at. Their eyes met for a moment, but then Damien shut off the light, and the bed dipped a few seconds later. Will sighed wistfully and retracted his limbs, giving Damien room to lie down._

_They were all silent for a bit, and Suko listened to the sounds of the evening through the window, which was still cracked open to allow in the fresh air. Suko shifted to climb under the blanket._

_"Love you fuckers," Will mumbled after a while, and Suko smiled._

_"Love you too, bitch." And when Damien didn't say anything in response to either of them, Suko piped up, "Do you love us, Dami?"_

_He hummed, almost in contemplation, and Suko put a hand on their heart in mock offense. Then he said, "I have... never had friends so comfortable with one another."_

_"Yeah," Suko said, "but that doesn't answer my question! We need validation!" Will giggled a bit, eyes still closed._

_"Love is a strong word," Damien said, still sounding uncertain._

_"Lame. Well, I love you. G'night," Suko replied, closing their eyes. Damien gave that harsh exhale of a laugh._

_"Sleep well."_

_And so they did, the three finally safe with each other for a night, not thinking about the days to come._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been distancing myself from social media recently it's nice


	31. our name is our virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abel done fucks up and damien reinforces some things bc he is Angy
> 
> another tw for graphic violence!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while to write my apologies! anyway. got carried away. gotta break him down somehow right

Waking up with utter determination to escape was not an experience Abel was entirely familiar with.

Blissfully empty sleep had been clouding his consciousness for the past few days. He drifted in and out of reality, ignoring everything around him, only occasionally getting up to use the bathroom, to shower, and to eat the surprisingly good food that was left on the dresser twice a day. He'd barely seen Damien for a week, certainly hadn't carried a conversation with him, and Abel was beginning to feel lonely.

There were only so many things he could draw before getting bored, only so much triumph he could feel as he marked down yet another day in the calendar, only so much sleep he could get. Only so much he could do before everything became mundane again.

Still, he didn't dare complain. He didn't want to feel the way he did. He refused to admit that he missed the bastard, even to himself, because there was no way. He'd have to be fucking insane to want to be in the same room as Damien. 

But alas, he was going fucking insane. And he was also the sanest he'd been in a while. Strange how that works.

Despite all that, when he woke up from another long sleep, he was starving. Not for food but for experience, exploration, hell he was _suffocating_ without fresh air. He'd been completely free of all physical shackles for over a week now and he hadn't done anything with it. He was tired of being a coward. Damien wasn't around enough to convince him to stay any longer. He'd spent four months here and that was enough, he thought.

The change in attitude was weird to Abel, he didn't remember feeling so motivated to _get out_ before. But he knew it had been building, and now was the time. Right now he needed air more than anything. He had to at least see the sky, not through a window, and he had to feel the wind. He _had_ to. 

So when he was awake enough to do so, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his sunken eyes. His feet touched the cold floor and for the hundredth time, he relished in the quiet, which was undisturbed by the clink of chains. 

Ever so cautiously, Abel made his way to the door. It was stupid, but he wanted to at least try it before he resorted to something like breaking the window. Before he lay his hand upon the doorknob, he looked to the side, out of the window. The sun was pushing its light between the ever-shifting leaves of the trees as it struggled to rise above them. He could see a rabbit in the yard, and a few birds flitting about on the telephone wire a distance away. The world was carrying on without him, the animals blissfully unaware of his pain. 

And yet he hesitated to leave. The room had become familiar to him, so much that he'd begun calling it _his_ room, not _the_ room. It was a place he'd begun to feel comfortable in, despite the pain inflicted on him within it. But it wasn't only pain, it was... well. There were some things he'd started to associate with the place. The way, sometimes, Damien would listen to him with the interest and intensity Abel had never experienced, the way Damien would look at him and touch him, making him feel _desired_ and _necessary._ He almost had a purpose here. He didn't have a purpose anywhere else. And here, he wasn't treated like glass or a doll. Damien wasn't afraid to treat him the same way he'd treat anyone else, no matter how awful. 

No. He couldn't think like this.

Abel looked back at his hand, which was still extended toward the doorknob. At the bandages wrapped around his hand, bloodstained even still. He withdrew his hand and took a deep breath. He didn't need the bandages anymore. It'd been a while since he'd gotten another tally, none of the cuts were actively bleeding, he... he could....

So he did. He slowly unwrapped the bandages, grimacing at the state of them, and when the entirety of the material was dangling from his other hand, he looked down at the cuts. They were straight and thoughtful, not to mention plentiful. Abel flexed his hand, wincing a bit, and then flipped it over to look at the back of his hand. Nothing. Untouched, so far. But his palm... it was sliced open, ten times to be exact, and it was sickening. The skin was sensitive to his touch and applying any pressure made him flinch, withdrawing his hand. He looked at his arms, at the bruises and the cut that had been left from that night, a slash across his right bicep. And he didn't even need to look to remember what had been done to his torso.

Thinking about those things built him up. Fueled his desire to leave, pushed him to anger. He had to think this way. Abel couldn't believe he had to do this much to convince himself to hate his captor.

He pushed a breath out of his lungs as if physically dispelling doubt, and grabbed the doorknob, turning it carefully. He waited for it to halt, to tell him it was locked and he had no other options, but it didn't. He pulled the door toward him and it swung open, revealing to him the empty monochrome hallway.

For a solid minute, he was frozen before the doorway, listening anxiously for any noise. The house was eerily silent. He couldn't even hear the rustle of fabric or a hint of a footstep. The most prominent thing on his mind was the question of _why_ the door had been left unlocked. Was Damien really so stressed and exhausted that he could have possibly forgotten? It seemed impossible. Hadn't he had at least nine other captives? Surely he wouldn't make a mistake as dire as leaving Abel unbound in an unlocked room. 

Once he was pretty sure Damien was either asleep or out somewhere, Abel began a very quiet and slow journey down the hallway. It wasn't a long hallway, but it felt a mile long. There were a few doors on the sides. He didn't dare open the ones that were closed, but two were open. The first displayed a clean set of stairs leading down to what he could only presume was the basement.

He didn't want to think about what was down there. Christmas decorations, perhaps? Horrid. Abel almost smiled to himself at his brain's meager attempt to make the situation lighter.

The second open door was boring; it was just a bathroom, the closest door to the main room. Abel paused again for a long time, back against the wall, not daring to peek out completely into sight yet. From here he could see the kitchen, which was, as he'd already seen, bland and colorless. The marble counters shone and reflected the morning light streaming through half curtained windows. Everything was... pristine, really. Picture perfect. 

He peered around the corner then. He could see a small lounge area with a couple of couches and an armchair. Again, it was somehow clean. The armchair looked like the only one that had actually been sat in. The others were so perfect that it looked like they were plastic, or just there for show. Abel was in disbelief. It was such a contrast to his messy apartment.

Still, from what he could see, the place was empty. He didn't like not knowing where Damien was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to go seek the bitch out. Abel took some hesitant steps into the open room, keeping his back to the wall. There were lots of windows here, letting in plenty of natural light. He liked it, but he also felt kind of exposed. 

_The door._ His eyes locked on a door that led to the outside. He looked around again, anxiety building in his stomach, and then bolted.

When he got to it, his shaky hands grasped the doorknob and turned and tugged fruitlessly. Though the door to his room wasn't locked, this one certainly was. "No," he despaired, "no, no- fuck, no, please- l-let me _out_!" Abel was fucking crushed.

He whirled, seeing something move out of the corner of his vision but not thinking much of it. He grabbed the coat rack from beside the door, shaking the black jacket off of it, and backed up, preparing to shatter a window large enough to get through pretty easily. He needed out. He needed air, and sunlight, and he needed Suko- complete escape wasn't part of the original plan, but fuck the original plan.

"I think not, sweetheart."

Abel instantly froze, a cold shudder going down his spine. His grip on the coat rack slackened, and as soon as he realized that, he tightened his grasp desperately. His heart pounded, threatening to burst from his chest, making him dizzy. Despite that, he tried to stay upright and he turned around, shakily raising the rack in a half-assed threat. 

In the center of the open room stood the man who had changed his life. One hand was behind his back. He was wearing a black button-up shirt tucked into black slacks again. His hair was perfect. Everything was perfect. But he wasn't smiling. In fact, he had no expression at all. He just stared at Abel, watching for his next move. He was stone cold, and that was _terrifying_ above all else, because while he'd begun to tolerate the smug sadism while pain was being inflicted upon him, this was... unpredictable. 

He wanted to say something that would cut deep. Something that really expressed his frustration and hurt and hatred. But he was blanking, looking at Damien, too scared to _think._ So instead of something bold, he only managed to stutter out, "P-Please... Damien, pl-please, let me out...." And his voice cracked. Wonderful, great, that really showed how strong Abel was, huh? Stupid. Stupid, useless fuck. 

"No," Damien replied after a moment. He was cold and certain; he hadn't even considered it. "You will most certainly not be rewarded for yet again betraying whatever faith I had placed in you. You failed the test, darling- though I suppose it should not surprise me. Beg all you want, of course, you are gorgeous when you do, but to take action is another beast entirely."

Abel felt his eyes well up with tears. Angry tears. He was angry at himself, at Damien, at everything. He was going to fucking snap one of these times, he couldn't- he couldn't be cooped up like this. He couldn't keep enduring this shit. He wanted to go _outside._ He wanted to go _home._

So he swung the coat rack at the window, using the momentum of a pivot. 

And it bounced off.

It was jarring. The rack vibrated and threw him off-balance. He grunted, almost falling and losing his grip. Well, that definitely wasn't like the movies. Either he was weak or the glass was strong. It wasn't like the coat rack was particularly heavy either... shit. That was really stupid.

Damien was approaching him, and the hand previously behind his back was now visible, revealing a metal pipe that looked more than capable of bashing through Abel's skull in a few well-placed swings. The hand holding it was steady and sure- it wasn't trembling with anger or anticipation or whatever else- and a primal sense of danger perpetrated Abel's thoughts and senses. Abel backed up, his heartbeat loud in his ears. His hands were sweating against the coolness of the coat rack. It was then that, high on adrenaline, he made the stupidest decision he'd made in a while. He swung the coat rack again, this time at his captor, and to his surprise, it _hit._

It was quite clear he hadn't expected Abel to have the guts to hurt him, or even _try_ in the first place. Damien only had enough time to throw up his arms, which took the brunt of the blow. Still, one of the hooks caught his sleeve and knocked him off-balance. Abel held the rack out in front of him like a battering ram, or a spear, or whatever. It was his weapon now.

There was silence for a few seconds as Damien stepped back and assessed the situation over again, now with a new threat. Then he looked at Abel dead in the eye, a promise of _pain,_ and Abel half expected him to laugh- but he didn't. What he did instead was even more unsettling. _Nothing._ He didn't do anything but stare, still expressionless, though his eyes blazed with fury. 

"Let me go," Abel said, the demand coming out weaker than he would have liked. Despite being the one with the upper hand, he still felt small and powerless. He _knew_ Damien could overpower him. Easily. 

"Put. It. Down." The words were gritted out, sharp and demanding. " _Now_."

Everything in Abel wanted to do what he said. He wanted to put it down and crumple to the floor and take his well-deserved punishment. But he stayed standing, clutching the rack, eyes wild and teary. "N-No," he said decisively. Internally he shouted at himself because goddammit he was just making this worse, there was only one outcome to the situation and he was only prolonging the inevitable.

Damien almost seemed _shocked_ by the refusal, something flashing across his expression- a clenching of his jaw, a slight flare to his eyes, a twitch on his lips- before it went stone cold again. "What did you fucking say," he hissed, which clearly wasn't a question, it was a threat. The words were slow and careful, everything about them intentional and heart-stopping.

"I-" Abel stammered helplessly, his voice breaking. "I-I said no...." Shut up, shut up, oh god Damien was _so fucking pissed._

When he stepped forward again into range, just the smallest glide forward, Abel took another swing. This time, however, Damien was more than ready. He deflected the hit with the pipe and pushed forward, forcing Abel's arms to bend toward his chest. Even with adrenaline on his side, he wasn't strong enough to push back. He looked wildly at Damien, at the hint of triumph expressed by the tiniest twitch of one corner of his lips, then into his dark eyes, which only burned right through him with that same promise as before, promising to make Abel beg and writhe and cry. And then he was against the cool glass of the window, the coat rack squeezed uncomfortably between them and the metal pipe at his throat, cutting off his air supply roughly. There it was. The inevitable. 

"Okay- I- I'm- I'm sorry, I get it, p-please-" Abel begged, giving in like the coward he truly was. He dropped the coat rack and it landed on his feet, making him wince. He kind of expected to be let go when he admitted defeat, but... Damien didn't stop. He only pressed harder, making more tears spring to Abel's eyes. He was quickly running out of air. 

The worst part was, Damien was utterly silent. He looked directly into Abel's eyes as he pressed, crushing his windpipe, depriving him of breath even as Abel struggled to plead with him and as Abel's hands scrabbled to grasp Damien's arms.

Black spots started to appear in his vision and Abel knew there wasn't much he could do. He reached up, grasping the metal and trying to weakly push it away, but Damien's intentions seemed set and he wasn't going to budge. "Ple-Please- please... stop...." 

And he was out. He couldn't move, everything was black, he felt a faint tingle but not much else. 

The next thing he was aware of was hitting the floor. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds later. He couldn't really think, not at first, he just felt. And what he felt was pain. Pain and cold. His body was desperately gulping in air without him telling it to. He could taste copper. He registered that it was darker- Damien seemed to have pulled the curtain over the window behind him. 

When the blood got to his brain, he started crying again. He was still gasping for breath, which didn't make for a good combination. He didn't even get time to recover because he was hit, a hard impact on his thigh that made him cry out. Then again, in the stomach, knocking out whatever breath he'd regained, and a third time on his shin. He kept pleading and apologizing, not even sure what exactly he was saying anymore, he was just frantically sucking air through his clenched teeth and hoping he'd just fucking _survive_.

It was weird. He hadn't been so sure he was about to die in a while. Most of the time, he doubted that Damien would kill him, especially because he hadn't gotten what he wanted yet, but for some reason, at that moment he was almost positive that his life was on the line. Damien kept hitting him, hard and deliberate, until there was a crack, and Abel screamed.

Pain stabbed through his wrist, sharp and insistent. It was then that Damien stopped and Abel just groaned, not daring to move his arm lest he mess up his wrist more. He felt the cold metal at his chin, tilting it up as an oddly sweet hand brushed the hair away from his face. Abel peeked open his eyes, which were still wet and red from crying. Through blurry vision, he could see Damien looking down at him, probably unimpressed. His captor's hair had fallen over one of his eyes but it didn't dampen the anger, and he _knew_ Damien wasn't done with him yet.

Again giving Abel barely enough time to recover or breathe, Damien tucked the pipe beneath his arm and hauled Abel to his feet, promptly dragging him toward the hallway again, literally dragging, with hands around his arm. He had the futile hope that maybe he'd just go back to his room and sleep and be left alone, but surely that wouldn't happen. Damien was merciful, but Abel had really fucked up this time. He couldn't let it go that easily.

His suspicions were proved right when, just as he gained his footing and was almost walking instead of being dragged, Damien stopped at the open basement door and without warning shoved Abel through the doorway. His intentions were quite clear. Abel stumbled, tripped, and the next thing he knew he was tumbling down the stairs. He hit the landing and slammed into the wall, crying out. He heard the door slam and click, presumably locked, trapping him down here with someone who had only the intention of bringing him agony. Another bolt of pain hit his wrist, and he struggled to sit up using only his good arm ("good" was a stretch). Before he could even do that properly, Damien had reached him again and kicked him down the rest of the stairs. Abel remained in a heap on the floor then, defeated already. He didn't even open his eyes, unwilling to see the situation he'd landed himself in.

Then he was being dragged across the floor, which was surprisingly smooth, and propped up against something that settled between his shoulder blades; he could only assume it was a post or a pole. There was a pause in which he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and drew in a breath between clenched teeth before his wrists were touched by cold metal. There was a click, and he tugged weakly to find that he was indeed handcuffed to something. There were footsteps, quick and confident, and soon enough a rag was being shoved between his teeth and tied behind his head. He whimpered, remembering his first week with Damien, the deprivation of his senses, and suddenly he was back in that place, and he was fucking scared. This time, however, he wasn't blinded. Only by himself and his refusal to open his damn eyes.

There were nails pressing crescents into Abel's shoulders, dragging themselves across his damaged body in perfect symmetry. His breath caught as those nails- those _claws_ \- painted reddened skin up the length of his neck. One hand settled on his jaw, gripping it tightly, and the other carded through his hair, slender fingers curling and tugging Abel's head back. Abel could only breathe shakily, choking back more tears. He didn't know what the hell Damien intended to do, not exactly, and he didn't like that. 

"Look at me." A cold, calm demand. Abel didn't understand how he kept his voice so still, how the fury could be contained to a subtle undertone, and how that was worse than being yelled at. Now that he thought about it, Damien hadn't yelled at him before. 

Trying to silence his inner commentary, Abel did as he ordered, wet eyes fluttering open as he tried to focus on the figure crouched over him. He could barely see, he could barely speak past the gag, but he managed to choke out a muffled, "Pl-Please don't!" His voice was barely there, just a squeak within a lion's den. And as he tried to blink the tears away, he could see how Damien raised an eyebrow, almost in curiosity or amusement, but he didn't so much as smile in response to his pleas. It was so much worse to not know how Damien would react to anything, for everything Abel had learned about the little quirks in his expressions felt useless now, and he was surely- more than ever- at the mercy of his cracked tormentor. 

"Ordinarily you would have been presented with a choice. However, your little act of rebellion elicits a revocation of choice. I have allowed you to become far too comfortable with your position. I think it is time to put you back in your place."

His words were drawled, dragged out to let the meanings sink in. Abel shuddered, trying to edge away, but the post behind him dug into his back. He gave a small gasp when there was a sharp sting between his shoulder blades, _a splinter,_ he thought.

A thumb brushed over his cheek, collecting a fallen tear, and Abel's eyes flitted back to Damien. This wasn't the first time he'd felt genuine fear in this house, far from it, but this had to be one of the scariest things he'd experienced. What the fuck was Damien taking a choice from? Surely it... it couldn't... he _knew_ how horrible of a person Damien was, but... could he sink that low?

Abel drew his legs up tighter to his chest at the thought. He gave a little whimper, still trying fruitlessly to make this stop, but he knew deep down he deserved this pain and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to avoid it at this point. He just didn't... he _couldn't_ withstand the final blow to his integrity, the one thing he knew would fucking break him.

"Oh," Damien breathed, and for the first time his lip twitched up with a hint of sadistic amusement. "You thought- _hah._ Do you actually see me as one to take you like this? Without your consent, nevertheless? How disappointing." Then that tiny smile vanished and he gripped Abel's jaw harder, digging his nails into soft skin. "Today, Abel, you will learn a very valuable lesson." 

As ominous as that was, Abel couldn't help but release a breath and relax just a little. It was reassuring, really, that... he wouldn't do _that,_ not without consent- at least there was _some_ humanity left in him. 

Any relaxation drained away, however, when the hand gripping his hair released him and moments later he heard a familiar _flick._ It was the little noise he heard every time he smoked, every time he got bored and began to fidget with what he carried. He remained still, eyes locked with Damien's out of a petrified sort of fear, but he knew exactly what Damien was holding, just out of sight. Though if anything, Abel was just glad it wasn't a knife.

Until there was a cold sting on his arm. Abel's neck strained as he tried to get a look at his restrained arm, and he paled. Nevermind about the knife, then. 

A thin red line had been formed on the side of his shoulder, and as he watched the blood began to bubble up and trickle down his bicep. _This is okay,_ he thought, _it just stings._ The knife was so sharp that it just felt cold and wrong. A type of wrong that made him squirm a little. 

Then it was no longer just _wrong_ because that damn lighter came into play. Abel cried out, flinching away from the new burn lower on his arm. The lighter was held there for a good few seconds before being drawn away, the little flame dancing in an almost mocking manner. Abel's eyes darted up to Damien's face, which was focused, if not totally expressionless. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Damien made another swift cut, another straight line right beneath the other. This was complemented by another burn to his forearm, and Abel started to cry again as the pattern continued.

It was only when the cuts had nearly reached his elbow that Damien stopped, leaving Abel bloody and shivering and sniffling pathetically. Every time he'd tried to jerk his arm away or when it spasmed from the pain, it ended up pulling on the other wrist (which was presumably broken) and caused him much more pain. There was a sheet of blood on his arm and it scared him, to top it all off.

Damien stood and left Abel's field of view. Abel tried to follow him by turning his head, but in the end, he couldn't see Damien anymore. Consequently, he tensed when there was a loud and steady almost static-like sound behind him. He glanced at the burns on his arm and grimaced.

It wasn't too long later, not more than a minute, that Damien circled him and crouched beside him, in front of the bleeding arm. He held a different knife this time, smaller and cleaner and- was it fucking glowing? 

He found out soon enough why. Damien grasped his elbow and pressed the side of the blade to the first cut. It sizzled and hissed menacingly. Abel screamed behind the gag, body involuntarily wrenching away from the contact, his broken wrist pressing against the metal binding him. 

"You deserve this," Damien told him lowly, pulling him back to place the heated knife at the next cut. Abel bit down on the fabric between his teeth, screaming into it as the searing pain spread across his arm. The knife was only on the cut for a few seconds, but it felt like so long, and before Abel could even _remotely_ recover, its cruel touch was on the next one.

"P-Please! PLEASE-" 

"Every single ounce of pain I give you is deserved, Abel." How was he so _calm?_ It would have been infuriating if Abel didn't have much worse things to focus on.

After the fifth, Damien paused for a moment to inspect the knife. Abel panted heavily, choking on his tears and saliva, cringing away from the man beside him. He began to plead desperately while he still had the breath to do so. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I'm sorry I-" 

"A bit cool for our tastes, I think," Damien interrupted him, proceeding to lightly run the blade across Abel's cheek. Abel whimpered and again tried to pull away from the heat, but his restraints did their job. Damien observed his reaction for a moment, then stood and returned to whatever was behind Abel. A kiln? A blowtorch? Lord knows. Abel honestly didn't care- either way, it hurt like hell.

It wasn't nearly long enough of a break. Abel was dizzy and tired, whether from bloodloss or screaming, but the feel of the knife once again on his skin woke him up immediately. It was well re-heated. He felt like his fucking flesh was being melted, and no amount of screaming or begging made Damien stop. 

He was nearly unconscious when the last cut on his arm was burnt. Sweat shone on pasty skin, his body trembled, blood coated his shirt, and eyes were so red from tears that they were starting to _hurt._ His head throbbed with a nasty headache, and his mouth felt dry, his jaw sore. And yet, he felt like they had barely started.

There was a hiss as the knife was dipped in water, then Damien silently circled him until he was directly in front of Abel, looking down upon him. Abel felt small and helpless, which was certainly true in this situation. He let his head hang, too tired to move.

"Look at me."

Without hesitation, he forced his head up and his gaze drifted to rest on Damien's face. He could barely see, he had no idea what expression Damien was making, but he had no doubt in his mind that he had to do everything asked of him or he'd pay the price.

"Have you anything to say?"

Abel blinked blearily as he processed. Then he mumbled behind the gag, not quite sure what he wanted to say yet but knowing Damien was expecting _something._ Damien was silent, seeming to prompt him to speak clearer like that was even possible. Still, he tried, pushing the words out of a raw throat, "Please... Da-Damien- _please._ "

More silence.

"I don't- don't k-know... what you want...." Abel tried again, his words slurred and muffled. That was a partial lie- he knew what Damien wanted, just... not _exactly._ "W-Whatever you want me to say, I'll- I'll fucking s-say it, I-I'm sorry, please... please stop!" he kept begging, though the words were barely coherent, and he wondered if Damien understood a single word he said. 

There was a condescending hum, followed by another bout of quiet. Abel tried to speak again, but was cut off by a soft, "Not good enough."

Abel dropped his head again in despair. 

He was given a solid twenty seconds, each punctuated by a heavy beat of his heart and a pulse of pain below his shoulder, before he heard a crackle. Abel tentatively looked up only to be met with a cold gaze and another crackle of electricity. His eyes drifted down to Damien's hand, focusing on- oh. Oh no. 

Damien knelt beside him. He set down the device with a quiet clack against the tile floor and he reached toward Abel, who flinched away and then froze, trying to hold still for him. The knot behind his head was undone, letting the gag fall, and Damien placed it aside with a small noise of disgust. Abel grimaced, working his jaw a bit, only relieved to be able to close his mouth. He didn't say a word. 

"I want you to do something for me," Damien said lowly, picking up the pocket taser again. Abel nodded without thinking, eyes fixed on the weapon uneasily. "Think about Arius. Tell me about him." 

Confusion passed over Abel's expression. "W-What?" he croaked. He gasped as the box was placed against his arm, digging into his skin; a threat in plain sight. Damien's eyes burned straight through him, demanding he do as told. "U-Um- Ari- he's a bit... of an asshole," Abel began, tumbling over his words, unable to keep the termor from his voice. He expected hot pain to shoot through his arm, but he received nothing, so he continued, "He yells a lot a-and likes loud things. I think he cares- AH- _FUCK_ -"

He felt like he'd been punched, his entire body pushing as hard as it could away from the little box, his muscles tightening like they were trying to bunch up and contract. He trembled there, fresh tears threatening to spill, as he looked at the taser warily. Damien reached out and gently grasped his chin, tilting it up so Abel met his gaze. "Continue," Damien ordered, voice smooth and coated with satisfaction- one of the first real emotions Abel had seen him display down here. That was... perhaps a little comforting, but dangerous.

"H-He's gay, he never really came out- he just- everyone knew, and... and we bonded over th- f-fuck _fuck fuck_ -" Abel tried- another shock pierced his arm, lower this time, still feeling like another punch. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't- I don't know-"

"You will figure it out," Damien said, cool and confident, the taser digging into Abel's shoulder. "Keep talking." 

So he did, taking in a deep breath and giving it another shot, feeling like neither of his arms would work properly after all this. "He, uh- he'd take people home a lot- y-you were the- the one he took home most until... until... I-I can't think of his name, um. W-Well, Arius would... ignore me a lot, I-I guess I embarrassed him? He thought a-all of my hobbies were stupid... except, um... we'd play video games toge-" He cried out in pain, jolting against his restraints again. Tears started to pour down his cheeks, which only frustrated him, he _couldn't stop crying._

Thinking about Arius almost hurt as badly as he was hurt physically. He hadn't seen Arius in... how long? In person, it must have been... well. Four months. In general... a month. He hadn't even heard from Arius in that time, and... part of him was starting to wonder if they'd all given up. But that was probably stupid. 

"He... never said... h-he never said it," Abel stammered, getting even more emotional. He leaned forward, dropping his head, letting his tangled hair cover his face, and he let out a heaving sob. "I- he _has_ to care- a-ah-" He didn't have the energy to cry out when he was shocked again, letting his body spasm and try fruitlessly to move away. "I just wish... I knew. 'C-Cause I care too much- _fuck_ , ow ow- I'm... I'm sorry."

_Wait._

_...Oh._

"You're trying t-to turn me a-against him."

"Bravo," the other mocked, and Abel peeked up through his hair to look at him. He couldn't muster the anger to glare.

Still, he had enough energy to say, "You... y-you can't." That was promptly punished by a longer zap of electricity, this time on his thigh, and he hissed through tightly clenched teeth, a whine of pain escaping his throat.

"I can," Damien replied, "and I will." 

And he did.

A good thirty minutes later, Abel wasn't responding anymore.

He was so... tired. No, that wasn't a strong enough adjective. Exhausted. His arm was bruised and the other had stopped bleeding, but it was still... very bloody. His hand was bleeding, the one with the tallies, as a fresh one had been cut on the back and nearly all of them had been reopened by the knife.

When Abel looked up next (had he fallen unconscious?) he was alone. Through blurry vision, he observed the basement. Tiled floor, gray walls, and a plastic folding table in the corner of his vision holding a few small boxes and some knives lined up with obsessive precision. If he turned his head, he could see the stairs.

Altogether, there wasn't much worth looking at. Abel let his head hang again and allowed his mind to shut down, drifting out of consciousness and into peaceful, thoughtless darkness.

Voices brought him back to the surface a while later. 

"The bruises should not be an issue, though his wrist appears broken. The other arm will need intense care, and the hand should be bandaged at the very least." That voice he knew. 

"Very well! That should not be a problem, my friend." That voice... he had no fucking clue.

He heard footsteps and raised his head a bit to regard his visitors. Beside Damien stood someone he didn't recognize. She- no, they would probably be safer- had their hair up in a bun. They had soft green eyes and a slightly chubby form. They wore a dark blue turtleneck, which was tucked into black pants. They knelt in front of him with a soft, empathetic smile.

"Hello, Abel. My name is Saxton." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh Oh


	32. truth is just a rule you can bend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stockholm syndrome sets in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll have you know this page has been open for about a week with only the words:
> 
> yee yee haw
> 
> beofh[
> 
> aa
> 
> hawyee........
> 
> gndhgjnbfdhjfdhncjujk
> 
> poobe hehnfhb

Consciousness had become a fickle thing.

Sometimes he didn't know if he was conscious. Was he aware enough to be hearing something above, or was he dreaming- hallucinating, even? It's not like he dreamed a lot. Just passed out for a while, woke up to cry, and drifted out of reality again. To be honest, he was getting pretty damn tired of crying. He licked at the tears that flowed down his cheeks, desperate for something to sate the rough dryness of his throat, but it didn't help. It was just another reminder that he was weak. 

If he _was_ conscious, he was in pain. Whether it be the cold fire on his arms, the hot sting on his hand, the raw ache of his wrist, or the sharp pang of hunger in his stomach, he lived in a world flooded with pain, and he was _drowning_ in it. 

The lights had been out for a while. He preferred the dark. That way he couldn't see his wounds so clearly. 

He'd been bandaged up, disinfected. He wasn't going to die, probably- but that didn't stop him from hurting and wishing he would miraculously bleed out or something. Then he wouldn't have to deal with this shit. It wasn't like anyone at home would care, anyway. Or what _had_ been home.

Would Damien care? Maybe. Unlikely, but... _maybe._

Abel felt... awful, to put it lightly. He hadn't seen anyone in however long it was, hadn't given food or water, hadn't been able to go to the bathroom. And so he sat like a starving animal in his own filth. If that wasn't degrading, he didn't know what was. He was sure it could get worse, of course- he didn't have any doubt in Damien- but he didn't want to see what _worse_ was. 

His shoulders ached. His arms had been kept behind his back, handcuffed. Every time he shifted he made everything worse. There wasn't a point in trying to get comfortable or- hah. Escape? He couldn't, even if he fucking tried.

By the time he heard the lock of the basement door click, he'd been staring into the dark for a while. He could faintly make out the shapes of the folding table, the stairs, the walls. So when he saw _light,_ pure, natural light flooding down the stairs to rest upon the wall- he almost had a heart attack. He drew his legs up slightly closer to his chest in an instinctively protective motion. 

He watched Damien descend into Abel's personal prison. The light from the open door only highlighted part of him, so Abel couldn't see or decipher his expression, but he could imagine Damien's disgust at the smell. Abel felt guilty, but... he couldn't have helped it. It was human.

His body was desperate to cringe away from the man who had hurt him, but he couldn't go anywhere. If he set aside his petrifying horror for one second, he could recognize the relief he felt deep down to finally have company. 

Their eyes met for a moment, and then Abel broke it by lowering his eyes to the tile floor. Both of them held some sort of peace in the silence hanging in the air as Damien circled him. There was an unsure moment, and then a little _click_ that sounded sharp to Abel's ears. The cold metal left his wrists. Warm hands met his shoulders and Abel audibly sighed at the contact before flushing, embarrassed. There was a soft but quick exhale behind him, and he could only interpret it as amusement. It was a relieving sound. The hands pushed his shoulders forward, eliciting a metaphorical punch of soreness, and gave them a gentle squeeze before the contact was gone and Damien circled in front of him.

Abel looked up to meet his eyes with skepticism, heart pounding. He wasn't sure what was expected of him- was Damien going to hurt him more, or was it finally over? Honestly, Abel wouldn't blame him.

After a heavy silence, Damien extended a pale hand, almost as if in a truce. Abel hesitated, realizing neither of his hands were okay. He picked the one least likely to hurt, tentatively raising his cut and bandaged hand toward the one offered to him, a grimace twisting his face at the discomfort and pain the movement delivered, the series of cuts on his arm protesting and his shoulder aching from its fixed position. Damien clasped Abel's hand gently in his own and slowly pulled him to his feet, allowing the shorter to adjust to standing again despite the bruises dotting his legs and the weakness in his knees.

He released Abel's hand then, taking a step back and keeping his distance. "There are clothes in the bathroom attached to the room of your residence. Clean up," he said, soft but firm in tone, sweeping his arm toward the stairs in an 'after you' motion. Abel took a few seconds to process, his eyes somewhat glazed. He squinted up the stairs, barely able to _see_ through the light that filtered down the hallway and crawled into the basement. 

Even so, he was afraid of taking too long and risking annoyance. He climbed up the stairs slowly with a heavy lean on the railing, trembling and weak still. The light hurt his eyes but he pushed himself forward, shuffling down the hallway into the familiar room. It almost felt like home. He almost fucking felt _safe_ here.

He stumbled into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, promptly collapsing against the counter and struggling to stay on his feet.

When he craned his neck and looked into the mirror, foreign eyes stared back at him. They were dull and brimming with tears and it made him cry more to see how _broken_ he looked. Abel tore his ashamed gaze away from the mirror, sniffling, raising his hand to wipe at the tears. The bandages felt rough against his eyes. The other wrist was in a splint. Useless. 

The first thing he did was seize the glass next to the sink, filling it with water and downing it as quickly as he could. The water was _wonderful._ He filled the glass again and again, gulping it down with desperation, feeling that he could never parch the thirst in his throat. Felt like the best goddamn water he'd ever had. He drank until he almost choked. 

He peeled his old clothes off as quickly as his injuries would allow. He stepped into the bath-shower-thing and turned on the water, hissing as he was hit with a cold jet. Still, he didn't leave the range of the water, desperate to cleanse himself of blood and... and other bodily excretions. 

The water that swirled at his feet and washed down the drain was filthy, but it brought such relief to see it leaving his skin. He didn't even care that the bandages were getting wet, in fact, he slowly peeled them off, setting them at the corner of the tub to throw away later. The warming water stung his wounds in an awful manner but it allowed more previously dried blood and grime to be scrubbed from his flesh, as gently as he could manage. It even felt kind of nice, like a hug, such a contrast from the cold emptiness of the basement.

He hesitated after he grabbed the bottle of soap. He looked down at himself. He could at least- yeah. Yeah, that was better than nothing. Anything to get rid of the awful smell.

Abel was quite careful not to get soap in the cuts. His torso and legs were okay, but his arms... he really had to watch out for his arms. Shampoo was also a bit of an issue, but if he leaned forward and used his working hand it was fine. He managed to drag his fingers through his tangled hair, against his scalp enough, and wash it out, despite the struggle. Then realizing what he'd forgotten, he lathered his hair in a nice-smelling conditioner and just let the water cascade over his body for a few minutes before washing his hair out again.

Even then, he remained under the water, eyes closed, trying to stifle the rising sob in his chest.

It escaped in a pathetic croak, a little noise that forcefully burst open the floodgates. Abel braced himself against the wet wall and gave in, letting his body heave with the force of sob after sob, muffled wails of despair, cries for help that could never come. His tears blended with the water running down his face to the point where he couldn't tell the difference. He couldn't fucking breathe. His chest convulsed with how hard he was crying, a knot tied over his sternum, his throat seizing up in a refusal to draw a deep breath. 

His knees buckled beneath the suddenly unbearable weight of the rest of him, and he inelegantly fell to his knees. He raised his shaking right hand to his face, cringing at the contact of the sensitive and healing tallies against his skin. 

After a while a headache throbbed at his temples, his head feeling stuffy, his chest in a dull aching pain due to the lack of breath he was able to draw. He'd run out of tears to cry. His eyes felt puffy, and he was sure he looked like more of a wreck than when he started. 

So slowly he struggled back upright, shutting off the water and weakly climbing out of the tub. He managed to get a grip on a navy blue towel and pull it around himself, shivering in the cooler air. He stayed on the rug in front of the shower for a while, drying off, processing, staring into space, and sniffling occasionally. 

When he was finally ready, he put on the clothes Damien had promised would be there. They were loose and comfortable. He spent a while brushing his hair, then his teeth, and he washed his face a couple of times as if it could possibly remove the puffy redness around his eyes or the tear stains on his cheeks.

He cleaned up the bathroom a bit in silence. Made sure the towel was folded on the counter, the bandages were thrown away, the blood had all gone down the drain, and his dirty clothes were contained in a plastic bag he got from under the sink. He used the toilet quickly, relieved to be able to do so, and after washing his hands gingerly he turned toward the door... and hesitated.

The bathroom was humid and warm. He felt safer here, behind a closed door, taking care of himself for once. He didn't know if he wanted to walk back into the world outside this little room. 

But he couldn't stay here forever. He knew that.

So he reached out and touched the doorknob, telling himself to just open the door and walk out and it would be _fine,_ but the thought of seeing Damien again terrified him. The thought of his eyes, burning into Abel as the knife flashed in the corner of his vision- 

He was on the floor again, curled up and fighting for every breath, squeezing his eyes shut like that could block out the fears that suffocated him. He silently begged himself to stop, to breathe, to quit freaking out because it was _fine,_ this was _fine,_ he wasn't even being hurt or anything he was just being a whiny little bitch and it was _pathetic._

Abel remained on the floor for a while after he calmed down. He twirled a strand of still-damp hair around his finger, staring blankly at the cabinet in front of him. He wanted to put on music and have a smoke or- or whatever, something to let him fucking escape, mentally. He remembered that time where he almost fell off the roof after Arius had introduced him to weed, and....

Arius was gone. Didn't... didn't fucking matter.

He started crying again, somehow. He didn't know how he even had any water left in his body. Turns out he was so exhausted that the sobbing put him straight into unconsciousness. A blissful one, really. 

The next sensation he had was an aching pain in his wrist. His eyes fluttered open, eyebrows furrowed in concern and confusion, because last he was aware he'd been sobbing on the floor. Something moved from the corner of his vision and he wearily looked at the source of the ache. He realized his wrist was being splinted again, the damp one on the nightstand- oh. He was on his bed. That was nice... certainly more comfortable than the bathroom floor.

He used his other hand to tug the blanket onto himself, noticing that the hand was rebandaged too. In fact, he could feel the new bandages everywhere, fresh and secure. It made him feel kind of safe, and that feeling was only enhanced as he was allowed to cover himself with the blanket, wrist sticking out so Damien could finish his work.

"I had begun to wonder if you had found a creative way to off yourself," Damien murmured, eyes flickering to his with a hint of amusement before he finished securing the splint, tapping it lightly, twice. His other hand, closing the medkit, twitched noticeably. Abel grimaced a bit at the comment but ultimately decided not to answer him, fearing that he'd say the wrong thing.

They remained draped in silence as Damien placed the medkit in the bathroom, lingering there for a bit presumably to straighten some things out that had been missed. It sparked a hint of guilt, but he ignored it. Abel rolled onto his left side, pulling the blanket up to his chin and shutting his eyes. He felt hollow. His head hurt, and his stomach was still plagued by a sharp ache of hunger. 

He didn't open his eyes when he heard the click of the bathroom light being shut off, nor when the bedroom door opened and shut, clicking as it was locked. And suddenly, Abel was alone. He let himself breathe, sliding under the blanket so it covered him completely.

At first, it felt secure, but the air quickly grew stale, and he almost felt trapped beneath its meager weight. He tried to endure it, but it eventually became too much and he threw the blanket off. It hung off the bed uselessly and he curled up against the wall as he tried to breathe.

He wasn't left alone for long. Some undetermined time later, the door was opened again and with it arrived the familiar scent of takeout. Abel opened his eyes a bit, squinting against the incoming shred of light from the hallway. The door was shut again, leaving the room in a comfortable dimness. 

Without really thinking about it, he flinched away as Damien approached, earning him a slight raise of the eyebrow. He instinctively mumbled an apology, which was accepted with a hum. Damien set the bag of takeout down on the nightstand and proceeded to sit on the bed beside Abel, crossing one leg over the other in an awfully regal manner. 

"C-Can I...?" Abel reached out for the bag with a weakly trembling hand, an awkward gesture toward the food which he so desperately needed. Damien provided an answer in the form of a nod with a small, smug smile curling at his lips. A word of thanks rushed from Abel as he grabbed the warm brown paper bag and dug within for food he'd been deprived of for... "How... how long was I... down there?" 

"Two days." There was a wickedly satisfied glint in his eyes.

* * *

i know i don't put authors notes in the middle of chapters it really breaks the immersion buut it was at this point that i really stopped writing for like... a month. i've been so very involved in another project, and you can really tell how the writing style changes due to it. hope that isn't too jarring, and i apologize, as my interest in this story has been waning- but hell if i've come this far, i'm gonna finish it.

* * *

Abel blinked. Then he nodded in slow, bland acceptance. He reached into the bag to pull out a wrapped sandwich, unwrapping it with unsteady hands, tearing through the paper, and then into the food. He cringed away from the taste at first, unused to anything but the metallic and bitter tastes that had been left in his mouth for two days, a mix of blood and bile- but then he accepted that he needed the food and took a big bite. It tasted so- so strong, and flavorful, and delicious. 

He felt sick shortly after, feeling like the pain in his stomach only got worse, but he ignored it. He was allowed to eat in silence that, in some twisted way, felt _comfortable-_ because there was someone beside him, and even if that someone had hurt him, that someone was helping him. In a way, apologizing, maybe. 

Speaking of apologies... one was definitely in order. 

The quiet, raspy clearing of Abel's throat drew Damien's attention to him. Damien's lips were curled into a subtle smile, eyes so clearly reflecting triumph as he gazed upon that which he had rebuilt. 

"I'm- I'm sorry," Abel managed to get out, feeling like his throat was closing up around the words. "I-I'm really sorry."

"Good. You had better be." Damien laughed softly, and his hand found the back of Abel's neck, fingers curling around it in a manner that was more forceful and threatening than affectionate. Abel looked at him, scanning his expression, his eyes. He almost felt ashamed of how he felt then, what he knew he had to do, hell- what he _wanted_ to do. 

Silence lingered between them, but it wasn't awkward. Damien stared at him with intrigue, with amusement, and Abel looked back with confliction and a flicker of terror. Eventually, he had to say it. "C-Can I, uh- can- can I..." he started stuttering, and Damien tilted his head, seemingly interested, prompting him to clarify himself. "Can I-I... um. Kiss you?"

Damien laughed again, a thrumming sound in the back of his throat, and his grip on the back of Abel's neck tightened. "Of course, love."

 _Shit shit shit,_ was all Abel could manage to think with clarity. He was panicked, but in a way _relieved,_ knowing he could have this small sense of comfort before his world crashed down around him again. He tried to calm his heart, which was beating right out of his chest- tried to slow the breath rushing in and out of his lungs almost painfully- tried to _chill the fuck out._

Spoiler alert- he couldn't. So Abel shoved down whatever pride he had left and committed to it. He set aside the food he had on his lap. He moved forward, his lacerated hand reaching out almost on its own to grab hold of Damien's shirt, pulling himself forward.

It felt wrong. It felt _so_ wrong, but he felt... good. Almost familiar with it, comfortable- safe? Maybe he was a fool for feeling safe when Damien pulled him closer, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it gently- but in the end, the morality didn't really matter. Maybe he was a fool, but right now he felt... wanted. And that was fine. He could be okay with this.

When he pulled away for breath, he buried his face in Damien's shoulder and ended up shifting closer, wrapping his arms around the person who had hurt him. Damien helped, making sure he was settled and comfortable, the two of them pressed together in an odd, unsettling embrace. Abel just knew that he was being held and that the source of touch and warmth smelled like roses. He breathed it in and found that breath was becoming difficult to draw. He choked up.

Then he was crying again, holding Damien tighter and trying to stifle himself in the fabric of Damien's shirt. There was something so miserable but comforting and _beautiful_ about holding his tormentor and being held in return while he felt more fragile than glass. 

"You are doing so well, Abel," Damien whispered, his breath warm as it ghosted Abel's ear. The use of his name- the praise, even- it made Abel shudder, grasping tighter, chest seizing up even as he tried to _breathe_ properly. 

"I- I don't w-want to do that again," Abel mumbled, voice muffled in Damien's shoulder. "I d-don't want to fuck it all up again... 'm so sorry."

The hand on his back shifted, thumb moving in a circular pattern, soothing him. " _Good_. Consider it a warning, hm?" the voice purred, and Abel grimaced slightly. If _that_ was a warning... he didn't want to see what could happen next time. There _wouldn't_ be a next time.

He just had to be good. He had to be good and he had to listen and he had to do what was asked of him. It wasn't a question. It was a necessity. He couldn't deal with the consequences of another mistake. He stayed there in that captive embrace, not wanting to move, not wanting to have the chance to do anything wrong.

"Do you want to talk about those you left behind now?" Damien inquired, voice dripping with honey and a touch of sarcasm. 

That had to be a trick. The question made his blood run cold, and his answer was immediate, firm. "No."

A hand found his cheek, a thumb on his chin, and he got gently pushed away from Damien's shoulder. For a moment he had to wonder if he'd done something wrong, but the touch was too soft to be a warning or a punishment. But quite quickly, his concerns were soothed- Damien kissed him, warm and rewarding. It was brief enough that he could barely process it, still in shock when Damien pulled back, but it was long enough that he could feel himself melt into it. 

He didn't really know how he felt about the intimacy. He felt comforted, almost, but he knew it was wrong. At least, it was _supposed_ to be wrong. But here he was, on Damien's lap completely by choice, clinging to him as if his life depended on it- hell, maybe it did.

A few minutes later, he was almost dozing off, head tucked beneath Damien's chin. He struggled not to jump or panic when Damien's hands moved, but the touches were small, warm. He _did_ jolt a bit though when Damien spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest, something so intimate and all-consuming; "I can retrieve painkillers if you would like, darling."

Warmth and hope blossomed in Abel's chest, and for some reason, he felt a small smile turning the corners of his lips. "R-Really?" he asked, leaning back to survey Damien's expression. He recognized the satisfaction flashing through that gaze, something that made his stomach flip unpleasantly. He suppressed the feeling, afraid to act on it.

"Yes, if you would kindly part from me for a moment," Damien chuckled, and Abel felt his cheeks heat up. He nodded, sheepish, and carefully untangled himself from Damien's grasp, grimacing at the pain the movements brought him. He retreated back to the pillow, picking it up and hugging it to his chest instead. 

Damien exhaled from his mouth in a way that Abel had come to recognize as laughter. He stood, brushing himself off and scowling slightly at the dampness on his shoulder from Abel's sobbing. Then he left the room, locking the door behind him again. Couldn't be too careful, apparently. Abel was fine with that. He wasn't going anywhere in the first place.

He grabbed the bag of food, digging out the remains of the sandwich and stuffing it into his mouth. Food was... so nice. After the sandwich, he found a small clear plastic container of pieces of fruit at the bottom of the bag. Hell _yes._

He was careful eating those, trying not to make a mess or make anything sticky. The fruit was good. Even better than the sandwich. It was cold, flavorful, and watery... he'd missed fruit. Sounded like a stupid thing to think, though.

The door opened just as he was setting everything aside. Damien shut and locked it behind him. In one hand he was holding a plastic water bottle and presumably a pill or two. Abel watched him approach, admittedly eager. 

"Thank you," he managed to say as he grabbed what was offered. There were two small pills- easy enough to swallow. He did so, proceeding to chug the water. This was... good. This was nice. He was okay.

"Mhm. They should take effect in less than an hour." 

Abel nodded, setting down the water bottle. He fixed his eyes on the sheets, suddenly awkward as he mustered the courage to ask. "Can I- can we-" he tried to say, hugging a pillow close. "Uh- you know. W-What we were doing before?"

Damien smiled- it was an unsettling smile. "I adore your behavior, dear, but let us not overdo it, hm? I have something to attend to," he replied easily, reaching out to run a hand through Abel's hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. Abel's heart sunk with disappointment but fluttered all the same. He nodded to show that he understood, and Damien drew back. 

As Abel settled on his side, curling up, Damien gathered the garbage. He threw the blanket back fully onto the bed in what seemed like an afterthought, and he left.

And that was it. 

He didn't fall asleep, not until the painkillers started kicking in. It was then that he could finally relax; he could convince himself to ignore the bandages and the wounds that lay beneath. 

He was okay. 

_Just be good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry it took this long to get this chapter out, i've been incredibly busy with other projects


	33. hate every little thing about the people that we love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> glenn shares some discrepancies about nox, and arius meets up for mcdonald's with chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. so sorry it took this long. i'm back tho,,? and yes i changed my username dw abt it

> **Arius:**
> 
> this is the cheapest weed ive ever seen
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> You asked for it 
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Broke bitch
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> ill punt you like a football
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Bet you cant even punt a football
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> prepare for your demise
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Yeah I fucking will youre making me text and drive
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> okay coward
> 
> **Quinn:**
> 
> Bitch

Arius let himself smile a little as he set down the phone and eyed the weed again. It was indeed cheap, but it was all he could buy. They were making a little more money now that he had a job, and he was... even managing to get there on time almost every day. Bitchboy- Damien- was still a regular at the shop, but Arius was getting real good at ignoring him. 

And Abel had been missing for almost four months. It had been over a month since Arius had last heard from him or, for that matter, his kidnapper. He hated how closely he was keeping track of that. 

"Arius, _christ,_ not in the apartment."

He glanced up to see Yasuko hanging up their jacket on the coat rack. He hadn't even heard the door open. "Huh?"

"The weed. Don't smoke it in here, for the love of god." 

"I wasn't-" He glanced down to see that he had been unconsciously rolling the weed into a blunt. "Oh."

He set it down, placing his hands flat on the table and looking up at Yasuko innocently. Behind them, Glenn walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him and locking it. He offered Arius a smile- he had a way of smiling that made people feel warm, and Arius just stuck out his tongue a little in retaliation in order to properly resist smiling back.

"You're in a good mood," Yasuko commented as they approached the kitchenette, pulling open the fridge and grabbing some ingredients, presumably for dinner. "Did you get to kiss your Nerf boyfriend?" 

When they turned around they were met with a scathing glare. "Shut up, shortass. We're not dating," Arius told them firmly. They grinned, giving a careless shrug. They set what they'd gathered on the counter and brushed a stubborn curl of hair behind their ear, revealing the little bubblegum machine earrings they'd decided on today.

"It's like those movies where literally everyone except the two involved know they're gonna get together? Y'know?" 

He wanted to spit in their smug face, but he wasn't really in the mood. He just leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Wrong. I rest my case," he said. He glanced at his phone again- no new messages.

Glenn finished tidying whatever he was messing with and slid into an empty chair. "With an attitude like that, you're going to lose your case."

"Bitch? Who made you the entire... judging group... what's it called...."

"A jury." Glenn was smiling again, amused. Arius snapped his fingers once, nodding. That's the word. "I appointed myself. Hope you don't mind."

Arius huffed, rolling his eyes. He turned on his phone and scrolled through his messages like anything else would show up. He decided to open Chase's contact. They have... way too many messages between them now. Thousands, probably. 

> **Arius:**
> 
> yasuko says we'll get together wanna bet

Glenn shuffled a few papers on the table, drawing Arius's attention. There were two folders with a small stack of papers in each. On the front of both, scrawled, was Abel's name- he knew one also had Glenn's name on it, and the other had Yagel's. He felt both a sense of relief and a crushing dread upon seeing the files. 

"Find anything interesting?" Arius asked, feeling obligated to do so. Glenn glanced at him over his glasses and exhaled, looking back down at the papers. He sifted through them until he pulled out one covered in notes and some highlighter.

He pushed it across the table, and moved to sit closer to Arius. "Yagel and I think, out of everywhere, the easiest and most tangible place to take a hostage would be somewhere in Europe. We were eyeing Ireland especially- not a lot of people out there. Problem is, they could be literally anywhere, depending on if the kidnapper speaks another language, or if he even needs to. But yeah, Europe. We looked at some flights to Europe from a couple of months ago and managed to get some classified data on them. There was... a lot of stuff, but there was one suspicious report made by a flight attendant. It was from a cabin- an actual private passenger cabin, that's tens of thousands of dollars- and the attendant heard someone scream for help. She wrote down that when she checked, one of the passengers was asleep, facing away from her, and the other was awake, seeming confused about her inquiry. That's all I could get."

"That could be anyone," Arius replied, deadpan. "Literally anyone." 

Glenn shrugged. "Yeah, it could," he admitted, "but it's the closest we've got. I mean, a private cabin, a scream for help, a flight to Gatwick Airport. All in our timeframe."

The other sighed. "Yeah, I guess? That's... something. Do you have anything else?" he asked, impatience hinted at in his voice. He saw Yasuko send him a warning look over their shoulder as they washed something in the sink. 

Shuffling through more papers, Glenn hummed. Presumably, he did have something else, then. At that point, Arius's phone buzzed, so he turned his attention to that while he waited.

> **Chase:**
> 
> bet on what ??
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> that we wont?
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> uh yeah
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> srry im tired as fuck right now what doe sthat mean
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> it means we're not getting together chase jfc
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> o right!! i knew that
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> chase
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> nope shush <33
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> chase.
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> lalalalalala im not listening
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> besides im Straight
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> literally the Straightest person youve ever met

Arius couldn't help but snort. He saw Glenn glance up at him and smile lightly at the display of amusement. "Chase?" he inquired, and Arius rolled his eyes.

"Maybe."

Yasuko snickered and said over their shoulder, "It's definitely Chase."

"Oh, shut up," Arius retorted. "He's a dumbass. I'd say I never talk to dumbasses, but I seem to be contradicting that at this very moment."

For a second, there was silence, and when Arius looked up he saw Yasuko and Glenn looking at each other. He was about to open his mouth to say something when Yasuko spoke. "What's the... like, the word that's like 'opposites attract' but it's not opposites, um- peas in a pod?" they asked, scrunching up their face as they tried to remember. 

"Birds of a feather flock together? Takes one to know one?" Glenn suggested, the smile still playing at his lips. Yasuko broke into a grin and confirmed that's what they were trying to say. Arius grumbled in protest and switched his attention back to his phone when it buzzed.

> **Chase:**
> 
> anyw how r u?

Arius shrugged on instinct, forgetting for a second that Chase wasn't actually here. He quickly tapped out a response that didn't seem sufficient at all, but he sent it anyway.

> **Arius:**
> 
> idk

"We don't have a whole lot more leads," Glenn said, tearing Arius's eyes away from his phone. The other was flipping through his files, thumbing the edges of the papers. He'd properly organized the entire thing with colorful tabs and highlighters- it was interesting to watch. "We did, however, write down everything he texted you when you let us read through it, and everything you recalled him saying on calls," he continued. 

Arius winced at the mention but leaned over to read anyway when Glenn found the page. It was all copied down neatly and sectioned out by date, time, and form (call or text). "An artistic collage of how fucking disgusting this dude is, huh?" he muttered. Glenn nodded, eyes skimming over the words again.

"And while we read these over, we found some inconsistencies," Glenn mentioned, pointing at a line connecting two circled sections, among others. "You remembered Abel reading off that if any more trouble got stirred up, or more specifically if the police got further involved, they'd leave the state."

The realization began to dawn on him. "Wait, but-"

"It was previously stated that they were in Medford, Oregon. If that's true, they were already out of the state, unless he meant out of Oregon, but that's not what it sounds like," the other affirmed. 

"Holy shit, that dumbass," Arius sighed, but he was interested. "Anything else?"

"As far as inconsistencies? Not much, I think. But some patterns, on the other hand...." Glenn flipped forward a few pages. "He's consistently mentioned, well... implied intents of sexual assault. So that... gives us a better idea of what business he's in." Arius scowled, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat. Remembering all this made him incredibly sick.

It seemed Yasuko was feeling much the same way because they hissed in surprise, and a plate crashed to the floor. It broke into a few pieces and Glenn was up from his seat in an instant, rushing around the table to make sure they weren't hurt. "I'm fine," they assured him, inspecting their hands for cuts as they carefully backed away from the shards on the floor. 

"Are you sure?" Glenn worried, checking them over thoroughly. 

"Yeah, yeah. All good. I'll- ah. Beat me to it," they answered, chuckling as they watched Glenn start sweeping up the small mess. "God, I love you."

Glenn grinned and gave them a peck on the cheek when he stood. "Love you too, Suk," he said and promptly made his way to the garbage to dump the remains of the plate. Arius took this time to check his phone again.

> **Chase:**
> 
> very enlightening 
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> im doing fine thanks for asking
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> glenns been showing me shit he and yagel have gathered abt nox
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> ahhhh anything useful?
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> i guess??? he found some inconsistencies and we were looking for consistencies but suko dropped a plate
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> lmaoo
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> lmk if you need anything !!and keep me updated
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> sure thing bitchass
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> lyt douchebag

Glenn, keeping an eye on Yasuko as they continued cooking, slid back into his seat and returned to business. "Anyway... he indicates that he knows you, and he had Abel read off of something to speak for him rather than say it himself- which is common, I suppose, but it could also mean he knows you'd recognize his voice- except for that one time where he told you to meet him at wherever, but you said you didn't recognize it, right?"

"Yeah. It was low, that's all I remember, but I was too angry to properly process it, I guess."

"That's fair," Glenn replied. "But he did mention knowing you. Do you remember any details?"

Unease washed over him as his eyes drifted and he tried to remember. "Just... in our texts, he- he said I've never been able to admit that I cared. That everyone around me..." he paused, swallowing a lump in his throat before dismissively waving a hand. "That everyone around me died. Because... of me." 

Sympathy flooded those deep brown pools of Glenn's eyes, such an obscene amount of warmth and support that it almost made Arius want to scream.

"So he knew you intimately enough to know you couldn't admit you cared," Glenn said, making the smart move by not bringing up the emotion suddenly welling in Arius's eyes. Arius wiped it away with the back of his hand, a scowl turning his lips.

"I don't know if he's gotta know me intimately to know that," he mumbled, turning on his phone. No notifications. He turned it off. Turned it back on, unlocked it, scrolled through his apps, turned it off.

"It still narrows it down. Anything else?" 

"He knew I denied it to myself. He knew I smoked a lot. Still do, I guess." He gave a noncommittal grunt and a shrug. "Could have been a guess. I'm not really a closed book."

Suko piped up, "You're not an open book either, Ari." Again, he shrugged, fiddling with his phone again. He reminded himself that he needed to charge it next time he was in his room. Ten percent remaining. Stupid phone.

"Did you know anyone shady or sick enough to... do this?" Glenn asked, and Arius snorted.

"Do you even know who I associated myself with? Literally every shady person I knew of. I mean, Damien might do it."

As expected, Suko shot him a nasty look. "He's not that fucked up."

"Yeah? Which one of us fuckin' dated him?" He didn't think that through.

They sighed through their nose. "Both of us, at some point, Ari. I know him better than you do, anyway." Their tone was very matter-of-fact. He rolled his eyes, not directly acknowledging that they were right. "I know you hate him, but _J_ _esus,_ Arius. This is seriously fucked up- the whole... situation. He wouldn't." They waved their hand for emphasis, and Arius diverted his gaze. He felt like a petty child, holding onto this grudge, but to be fair, he felt entirely justified in it.

"Yeah. I don't- I don't know, Suko. I just want Abel back. Just want my brother." He grimaced at the way his voice broke. Before anyone could comment on it, he was pushing himself upright, shoving his chair back, swiping his jacket off the sofa, heading for the door. 

"We'll get him back," Suko called, and he only nodded before leaving. It was all quite sudden, but he was never one for eloquent or sensible exits. He wanted _out._

Getting down the stairs became a longer process when he took his phone out to shoot a text at Chase, but like hell if he cared.

> **Arius:**
> 
> i want to eat shitty fast food at the junkyard rn
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> thats an order actually
> 
> **Chase:**
> 
> get your ass to the junkyard im bringing mcdonalds
> 
> **Arius:**
> 
> aye aye

It was... kind of comforting. Chase almost always responded instantly, which was... sad, really, but he was always there. Arius might kind of hate him, but at least he was _there,_ and he was so... Chase had always felt so alive, so warm. 

They used to go everywhere together. They'd stay at each other's houses, waking up hungover and sometimes they'd drag themselves to school, sometimes they skipped in favor of lying in bed all day or hanging out somewhere else. Chase would coax him into the woods and try to climb trees like an absolute dumbass, getting himself hurt more often than not. He'd shriek as he fell from branches and then break into giggles and wheezes of pain when he hit the ground. He'd ask Arius to kiss every little scrape, and Arius remembered making a 'you have a scrape on your lips' joke multiple times. They'd go to old diners that had since gone out of business, and see horror movies, and drive into the countryside in the evenings. They'd lie down on the ground and smoke and look at the sky and laugh at the dumbest things.

It hit Arius how much he _missed_ those things.

It was a weird realization to have- to accept, nonetheless. It's not something he could have acknowledged many months ago, and he could barely acknowledge it now. But there it was, staring him in the face: he missed Chase Brady. 

_Damn it._

By now he'd wandered to the junkyard, surrounded by trash piled high, as expected. It changed almost every year, but... he barely paid attention anymore. Though... he remembered a car buried beneath a pile, half in the ground. They tried to wire it, once, for some reason. Obviously, it didn't work. Inside, there was just enough room to fit a few people. Chase would store snacks and he'd even found a raggedy blanket, shaking the fleas off of it. Arius had left a lighter there. Sometimes they'd go together, sometimes alone, when they needed somewhere to go. That old car was... somehow, a place of comfort. They'd leave notes for each other in the glove box. Arius wondered if those notes were still there....

The melancholy thoughts were broken when something hit the back of his head. He whirled around defensively, green eyes flying open wide. He couldn't help that his heart picked up its pace thrumming beneath his ribs, remembering too clearly the people that hurt him - that hurt _Chase_ \- and remembering that they were hunting him. He shouldn't have led them here, to his fr- to Chase.

Another pebble landed at his feet. A warning? Mocking, perhaps? He squinted, feeling like prey. He felt too exposed out there, in the middle of that place. Too many places for people to hide from him... his paranoia mounted. He took out a pocket knife, the one he got for his seventeenth birthday, and flicked it open, muscles tense.

The air was still. He started to notice the unpleasant smell of the junkyard and scowled.

"Ah ah... you brought a knife to a gunfight, fool," a familiar voice rang out, sounding cartoonish in its forced dramatic tone. Before Arius could curse him out, a NERF bullet struck him directly in the knee.

" _Brady,_ " Arius began in a hiss, "I swear to _god._ " He approached the stack of worn tires that he'd seen a hat duck below right after the little foam bullet had found its mark. The tires were big, like tractor tires, and nicely stacked on top of one another. "Come on, quit acting like a _child-_ " he said, and at the last word leaped around the stack to catch Chase.

There was nothing on the other side. No childish bisexual drug addicts waiting to ambush him back with a NERF gun. He furrowed his eyebrows, circling the pile again. Nobody. No results were yielded by a third check. There was no way Chase was agile enough to get away that fast without causing noise or tripping and falling on his ass.

Arius stood still, bewildered. Someone started giggling - from inside the tires.

"Oh my fucking-" He didn't finish his sentence, hopping up and peering down. Indeed, there sat the childish bisexual drug addict, the one and only Chase Robert Brady.

"Hi," Chase giggled. "I'm stuck."

Arius rolled his eyes. "Good. Serve your life sentence in tire hell, heathen."

Chase pouted. "What did I do to deserve a life sentence?"

 _Scared the shit out of me, for one,_ he thought, but didn't say that for the sake of his pride. "World's biggest d-"

"Dick?"

"- dumbass. Jesus _christ."_

"Awh," Chase pouted again. "Do I get a ribbon?"

"Yeah." Arius dug in his pocket, found an old Jolly Rancher wrapper (green apple flavored before consumed who knows how long ago), and threw it down. Chase gasped loudly and hugged it to his chest, clasping it over his heart. Arius rolled his eyes once more and hopped back down, walking away from the tire prison in which Chase was rightfully trapped. 

"Wait - come back!" the now muffled voice yelled. "I can't be alone again!" He made sniffling noises. Obnoxious.

Arius dragged a weathered board from a pile of junk, creating a mild avalanche in the process. The wooden board was chipped and littered with graffiti, but he dragged it over to the tires. "Chase, I have to ask you a very important question," he called.

"Yeah?" was the apprehensive reply. "What're you doing?" He peeked his head up, but Arius batted him down by swatting at his hat.

"Is there room for two in tire hell?" 

He could hear the grin in Chase's voice as he answered, "Oh, fuck yeah."

For some reason, he couldn't help but grin back, even if Chase couldn't see it. "Cool." He vaulted up onto the pile again and dragged the board up too. Then he slipped into the tires and pulled the board over them, blocking out most of the light save for slivers on the sides. He looked at Chase, who was absolutely glowing. The space wasn't quite big enough to be comfortable for both of them, and their shoulders were pressed together when Arius sat, but it wasn't that bad. 

"Hi!" Chase said cheerily, fidgeting with his hands in his lap now. He looked suddenly very anxious, and Arius snickered.

"You fuckin' liar, there's like, no room down here," he complained, lighthearted.

Chase pouted. "There's plenty, asshole, and besiiiidesss..." he began slyly, scooting even closer, "it's a bonding activity."

"Oh, shut the fuck up." They were both laughing, both rather nervous, though Arius would never admit it. He'd rather be buried alive than admit to the spark that flares up when he sees Chase.

"Wait!" Chase exclaimed after a moment, and from beside him pulled a few brown paper bags from McDonald's, as promised. It smelled... amazing. The perfect, artery-clogging, greasy smell of fast food. Chase had gotten Arius a burger and got himself some nuggets. They both had fries, and Chase bought both of them a soda. Hell _yes._

"Fucking amazing, that's- damn." Arius started eating, and Chase grinned, looking extremely proud of himself. It was- _fuck,_ it was adorable. Arius averted his eyes, refusing to let that thought exist, nevermind get any further. 

They sat in silence and ate for a while, only interrupted occasionally by the crinkle of the bag. It was... nice. It was starting to get stuffy in the tire pile, but it was okay, and honestly, Arius felt rather safe. The rest of the world was blocked out here; he hardly felt the need to check his phone, even. It was just him and Chase, in the middle of a junkyard, eating fast food.

"You know," Chase said after a melancholy and extended staring contest with his burger, "you might be an asshole, but nobody else would crawl into tires to eat McDonald's with me, you know? Nobody else even bothers to text me back or make dumb jokes with me. Like, you might make fun of me, but nobody else bothers to look my way. So... thanks." He ducked his head, embarrassed and anxious; Arius could tell by the way the tips of his ears burned red.

Arius took a long drink of his soda, staring blankly ahead at the scuffed rubber of the tires without indicating he heard.

He didn't address Chase's comment at all for a while. It was a familiar situation. Sometimes, when Chase had said things like that years ago, Arius would simply look away and change the subject, or walk away entirely. Little did Chase know, Arius would always spend hours after thinking about it, letting his genuine words sink in, only to never mention it again. But Chase kept confiding in him, and Arius had never expressed how grateful he was, how much those words kept him afloat. He had never, ever acknowledged to anyone but himself that Chase had opened the floodgates of his emotions up for Arius. He had always swerved around sensitive subjects, always... god, he really was an asshole, huh? All of that seemed immature, now. Wasn't it about time he tried to give something back to Chase, who just kept giving and giving without anything in return?

"Chase, I..." Spit it out. Just say it, start talking, there's nobody else listening. Just Chase. Doesn't Chase deserve something? Doesn't he deserve even a _grain_ of acknowledgment, for sticking with Arius through all of this?

Nox was right, and Arius hated to admit it to himself. He could never admit he cared. 

But Chase was looking at him with curious and painfully hopeful eyes. When Arius turned his head to see him, his mouth still slightly open as he struggled to form words, Chase promptly looked away. God, Arius had to say something. He didn't know _what_ to say. It shouldn't be as difficult as it was. 

The words finally tumbled out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Chase. I'm really fucking sorry. I did- god, I did horrible things to you, and you still cared- nobody else would have- would have done _any_ of this, but you did, and- yeah. Yeah. Fuck, alright." He did it. Shit, he _did it._

The shock on Chase's face was slowly overtaken by the happiest glow Arius had seen from him in a long time. He was absolutely beaming, looking down at his hands. "T-Thanks, Ari. Really," he stammered, and he... he looked so happy.

"Yeah." He was on a roll. He could do this. "I- I care. _Fuck,_ I really needed to say that. I care, so damn much."

Chase had thrown himself on Arius before he could start hating himself for saying it. Arius was very suddenly engulfed in a tight hug, Chase's head buried in his shoulder. It was warm, and he could tell Chase had taken a shower beforehand, and he could feel the softness of Chase's hair beneath his hat, brushing Arius's neck. Arius hesitantly put one arm around Chase too, though he was terrible with hugs. He just... awkwardly patted Chase's back and then let his hand rest between the other's shoulder blades, waiting for him to withdraw. 

It was a while until Chase actually pulled away. He settled back in the dirt, bending his legs to bring his knees closer to his chest. He sniffled, and Arius looked away awkwardly. He slowly picked up his soda again. He had no idea how to continue the conversation. He'd pretty much reached his emotional capacity for the day.

All Arius could think about was the feeling of Chase's tight embrace, head on Arius's shoulder... and damn it, he felt safe in the stupid tire pile, alone with this dumbass and a bag of McDonald's.

Chase sighed. He was sitting with his arms on his knees, crossed at the wrists, head leaned back on the rubber behind them. "It feels like... like you're the only one that cares. Like nobody else in the world even gives a shit," he said slowly, turning his head to look at Arius. Arius mustered the courage to look back at him. His eyes traced the freckles dotting Chase's cheeks and nose before finally meeting his gaze. 

"Yasuko and Glenn care," he muttered in response, eyes drifting away as he remembered how Suko had screamed at him and defended Chase. 

With a slow, begrudging nod, Chase looked back up at the board covering them. "I guess. I'm just... 'm paranoid that everyone fucking hates me, and uh, most of those assumptions have been proven right, so..." he trailed off.

"They're just assholes," Arius insisted, frowning. "And not even the cool kind."

Chase laughed a little. "Yeah? Are you the cool kind?"

"You fuckin' betcha." 

He smiled slightly when Chase looked at him with a grin. Neither of them had anything to add, but they didn't look away quite yet, Chase's grin fading slightly as he seemed to focus more on Arius. Arius was doing the same, silently mapping out Chase's face with his eyes, committing it to memory, from his lips to the slants of light that streaked across his face from the slats the board above left.

It made him remember the first time they really- consciously- kissed. The very first one was when Arius was absolutely wasted; he'd woken up the following morning with a horrible hangover and no memory of it, while Chase had struggled with the knowledge of what had happened.

It had caused... problems, between the two of them, especially due to Arius's vehement denial and a temper shorter than Damien's at the time. Still, it was in this junkyard, in the old maintenance shed, that Arius had finally... _finally_ gotten a sober kiss. But it wasn't a confession.

Honestly, it was just a dick move. He'd been selfish, teasing and kissing Chase with no explanation, no consideration toward his feelings. He'd been trying to ignore it, trying to satisfy himself through small touches, just not enough to give himself away... but seeing Chase fall apart with confusion and desperation hit him hard. After snapping at Chase and then giving a discreet apology, he'd taken some time to think.

It was rather frustrating to compare his teenagehood and now; nothing had really changed, had it? 

"What do you mean?" Chase's question startled Arius back to the present.

"What?"

"You said nothing changed. What do you mean?" It was an innocent inquiry, but it still made Arius's stomach drop. Shit, he'd said that out loud? Usually he could tell when he said things out loud. Since when had his subconscious decided to screw him over? 

Arius sighed, digging out a pack of cigarettes. He'd need one for this conversation. "I mean since we were kids. Nothing fuckin' changed," he answered, flicking open his lighter. "We're both just... dumbasses. Both still goddamn addicts. I'm still an asshole. You're still depressed and oblivious. You still- still for some unknown reason- like me. We're back in the junkyard, trying to resolve something dumb I did to you. I'm still so distant from Abel, and... god, I don't know." He lit his cigarette and put it between his lips.

There was pity in Chase's eyes that Arius hated. "I guess not much has changed," he agreed, hollowly. "We grew up a bit. Saw more shit in the world. But we're still... this." He gestured helplessly to the two of them.

"Yeah," Arius grunted, fiddling with the lighter. 

A short silence fell between them, draped over them like a net. Chase was finishing his food, and Arius was blowing a thin, curling line of smoke toward the gaps in their makeshift ceiling. They sat pressed together, neither really minding, and simply thought.

After a while, Chase said, "But we can change, you know. If we want to. Shit can get better."

Arius furrowed his eyebrows. "Of all people, I didn't think _you_ would say that," he replied, and Chase huffed. "But I don't really see how you're right anyway. I sure as hell can't make anything better."

"I dunno, it's just something Suko said to me," Chase muttered, looking more doubtful now as he stared at the empty McDonald's bag. 

"Do you want things to be better?" Arius questioned after a moment, and their eyes met again. Chase took a moment to think, and his lips twitched in a bit of a frown. Arius faintly realized that he didn't like it when the other frowned.

"Yeah. I think I do."

"Like... what?" Honestly, Arius didn't know where this conversation was going, but something about the thoughtfulness of Chase's expression spurred him on. 

Chase took a moment to think, beginning to drum his fingers on his knee. "I want therapy, Ari. Like... I'm really fuckin' sick of being me. Alcohol isn't even... really good anymore. It's just habit. It's dumb. I, um... I want to see my kids more. And I want to hang out with you more. I just want everything to be better... I want to help you get Abel back, and everything. Dunno." 

All of those things should be better, Arius thought. It's just that he didn't know how to make them so. It didn't seem possible to fix most of those, but then again, he'd never really tried to fix a single thing in his life. 

He was caught off-guard by a reversal of the question. "Do you?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess so," he mumbled, tearing his eyes away. He started thinking about it. There were so many things that could be better. So fucking many. But nothing was really coming to mind.

"Yeah?" Chase prompted.

Arius shook his head, picking at the strings of his tattered jeans. He sullenly replied, "I don't know jack shit, Brady."

He'd never been good with words. Never been able to piece a string of genuine words together. Sure, he was great at sarcastic remarks, rude comments, sneering retorts. But this? Sitting alone with Chase Brady, talking about how the world could be better? He didn't have the words. That's what made their relationship difficult. Alongside Arius's bad habits and Chase's mistakes, it had been his inability to communicate. He could never say what he was feeling.

"That's... okay," Chase said, earnestly, though seeming a bit deflated. "It's a lot to think about."

"I guess." 

It was. Of course, he wanted Abel back. He wanted Damien completely out of his life. He wanted to... stop being such a fucking idiot, generally. He didn't know how he felt about giving up his addictions. Maybe that was for a later time. 

And yeah, he wanted to be better to Chase. Chase didn't deserve his shit.

"Brady, honestly, I don't know what the fuck to do," Arius admitted after a while. 

"Me neither," Chase replied bluntly, and slumped. "I'm... tired." 

Arius knew what he meant. It wasn't physical exhaustion, not really, it was a burnt-out feeling that simply felt miserable. The feeling that nothing could be done, that everything would just stay the same forever.

Slowly, Arius said, "You mean... tire-d?" 

"Oh my fucking _god_ ," Chase said, and burst out laughing. "You just made a Chase joke. A Choke."

Arius wrinkled his nose in disgust, both at himself and at Chase. "That's the worst fucking thing I've heard in my life. I have never felt more regret and revulsion."

"A _Choke!_ " Chase cackled. 

"I'm going to fucking _choke_ you out if you say that again-"

"Ch-"

"You are so fucking dead, Chase Brady-" He tackled Chase, and they ended up in a pile of laughter, a sort of messy hug there in the middle of a stack of tractor tires, rolling in the dirt and gravel, a McDonald's bag crushed under Chase's weight. 

It felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i do not proofread any of my chapters
> 
> but yeah! sorry!! hello again!


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